


One Difference: The Answer's Probably Yes

by MistyMountainHop



Series: T7S: One Difference [10]
Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Dramedy, Gen, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-09-26 02:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyMountainHop/pseuds/MistyMountainHop
Summary: In a desperate act, Hyde seeks advice from Jackie, a girl who thinks he's scum. He's not fond of her either, but she makes him a crazy yet strangely-appealing offer.





	1. Temporary Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER ONE**  
TEMPORARY INSANITY**

Hyde had minutes, maybe seconds, to call Jackie over. She was sitting at the Formans' kitchen table, across from Kelso. A couple of sophomore girls surrounded them, but Hyde made a beeline for the fridge. He had to play this sitch cool and nonchalant. Jackie wasn't alone, and their conversation had to be private.

Several beers were stashed in the fridge. Hyde could've drunk them all down, but he grabbed a Coke instead. Christmas season always screwed with his skull, and this year's had made him certifiably nuts. Donna was all he thought about. Forman had scored too many damn points with her lately, and she acted like Hyde wasn't an option—but that was his own fault. He hadn't shown her otherwise.

That was going to change.

He opened his Coke with the Formans' bottle opener as Fez passed behind him. Fez must've seen an opportunity here, too. Jackie's friends were just his type: breathing.

"Michael, I want you to drive me and my friends around on Christmas Eve," Jackie said, and Hyde went to the counter opposite the table, giving him a perfect vantage point.

"Why?" Kelso said.

"To distribute gift baskets to the less fortunate bums."

Hyde swallowed a laugh with Coke. Unlike yesterday, Jackie dropped the pretense. Her disdain for people like him sucked, no matter the words she used, but at least today she spoke honestly. And in his case, the contempt was mutual.

"Okay," Kelso said, "but we better be back in time for the party."

Fez crept up behind the shortest of Jackie's friends. He was clearly about to make his move, and he said, "Yes. Perhaps you lovely ladies would like to join us?"

"I don't think so," the short girl said.

The chick beside her, a hot blonde in a fur-lined coat, gave him the side-eye. "Well, we are supposed to be helping the less fortunate."

"Okay," the tallest of Jackie's friends said, and that seemed to seal the choice. Jackie's snobby posse would attend the Formans' Christmas party.

Kelso left through the patio door without kissing Jackie goodbye. Fez was free to flirt with her, like he usually did when Kelso wasn't around. But he focused on her friends, and Jackie strode to the fridge, boots clacking on the floor.

Hyde's heart pounded faster than he expected. An opportunity had cropped up, but he didn't do big gestures, buy fancy gifts, or say pretty words. Mostly because he couldn't. His body rebelled against spectacle; his throat jailed any sentimentality. His lack of an allowance and job kept him poor. But he'd managed to swipe six bucks out of his ma's purse this month without her noticing. Whatever he bought Donna with it had to speak for him.

Jackie took a Coke from the fridge, and he pulled his own Coke from his mouth. "Hey, Jackie," he said, "come here."

She stared at him. "Why?"

"Just come here!" This was fucking hard enough without her suspicion of him.

She left her Coke on the counter, and his adrenaline kicked up another notch. The faint scent of pork and butter saturated his nose. It was the Formans' dinner from an hour ago, and his stomach grumbled. He could deal with his hunger, but Jackie's bright outfit stung his eyes, even with his shades on In her red coat, green turtleneck, and crimson skirt, she resembled a Christmas ornament.

"Hyde," she said and stood in front of him, "if you want to make out with me, the answer's probably yes."

He flinched, feeling like she'd rammed a fork through his brain. What she'd said made no sense, and his gaze fixed on her face as he tried to work it out. She gazed back without scorn, as if expecting a response.

He had none. If she'd said the answer was probably _no, _it would've been easy. A blunt answer to break the delusion that all guys wanted her. But she'd said probably _yes. _To him.

"Well, okay." That had to be enough to sweep her proposition aside. She and Kelso had been together four months, despite Kelso's constant complaints about her. Whatever was going through her Barbie-Dreamhouse head, Hyde wouldn't be part of it, but she crossed her arms over her chest and continued to look at him.

_Crap._

He reached past her and put his Coke on the stovetop. Only way to deal with this insanity was ignore it. "Look, Jackie, I know this girl, right? And I wanna get her a Christmas present."

She smiled, ending her unnerving focus on him. "Oh, my God—it's Donna!"

Blood heated his neck, but he smiled back tensely. Donna was oblivious to his feelings. No way she'd told Jackie about them. "It's not Donna."

"Okay, it's not Donna," she said, sounding unconvinced. "How much do you have to spend?"

"Six dollars."

Her arms fell to her sides, and she squared her shoulders. "You don't deserve a girl like Donna for six dollars!"

"I'm not trying to get Donna!"

"Good 'cause you won't for six dollars!"

Jackie's protectiveness of Donna loomed over him, casting a shadow of doubt. He scratched his cheek and glanced away. Donna wasn't officially Forman's girlfriend, but she'd confided in Hyde more than once about her feelings. She had a thing for the scrawny little neighbor boy—his best friend. Six bucks wouldn't change that.

Hyde reclaimed his Coke from the stovetop. His arm slid against Jackie's in the process, but she didn't recoil. She remained standing in front of him, a sentry between Donna and his dying intentions. She seemed, yet again, to expect a profound response from him. But he sipped his pop and weighed the facts.

Jackie had revealed an impure interest in him tonight, his favorite kind. Every other week, Kelso planned to kill their relationship. In four days or four more months, it was go-nowhere doomed. Speeding up that process would do both Kelso and Jackie a favor.

Plus, she was hot and cared about Donna. But she was also Jackie, a huge minus. Still, Donna would never want him the way he wanted her. That was the biggest goddamn minus of them all, nullifying all other minuses.

"If the answer goes from probably to definitely," he said, "come find me in the basement."

* * *

Jackie's face flushed as Hyde disappeared down the basement stairs. Her physical attraction to him was wrong. It had gotten the better of her, but he was so scruffy and masculine, and the idea of kissing him was a complete turn-on.

Especially since Michael kissed like a middle schooler.

No amount of instruction or criticism helped. His body moved like a malfunctioning wind-up doll. He barely listened when she talked. Pestered her constantly to have sex, but making love with him would be terrible. Their intimate time together left her chronically dissatisfied,.but maybe that was her fault.

She returned to the counter by the fridge. Her bottle Coke sat there, unopened, and she pressed it against her heated cheeks. The basement stairs were only a few away. All she had to do was climb down them, and she'd learn if the problem was herself or Michael.

She licked her lips. Her mouth was dry, but drinking the Coke might make her belchy. She put it back in the fridge. Fez had her friends' attention. She could sneak away unnoticed, without explanation, and she hurried downstairs.

* * *

Hyde was sitting on Eric's duct-taped couch and drinking his Coke. The TV was off, but a song with a sad melody played from the record player. Jackie couldn't name it or the band, but the song was too poetic to be entirely gloomy.

Hyde didn't seem to agree. He was staring into nothing, like he'd lost his favorite clod of dirt. She sat beside him, but he didn't acknowledge her. He continued drinking.

His sweater was too big. Its sleeves bunched at his elbows, but the shape of his body stood out anyway. It had substance, more than just bone but muscle. His biceps were hard to miss whenever he wore short-sleeved shirts.

She cupped his knee, and her heart beat so loudly she could barely think. "The answer's yes."

His sunglasses were on the wooden spool table. The basement's aluminum Christmas tree reflected in the lenses, and he looked at her as if they'd never met. She removed her coat, hoping that would prompt him to make the first move.

It didn't.

_"Definitely _yes, okay?" She plucked his Coke bottle from his hand and set it beside his sunglasses. "Okay?"she repeated.

His eyes widened slightly. She inched closer to him on the couch until their arms were touching. Sparks danced along her spine.

He smiled the barest of smiles, and she prayed he knew how to kiss before his lips brushed against hers. She opened her mouth wider. His moved in deeper, but as the sensation of him spread through her skin, he withdrew.

"What?" she said.

"Don't we kind of hate each other?"

"So?" Hate and love were meaningless right now. She just wanted to French him.

He cradled her cheek, like her answer was the most logical one in the world. His fingers were warmer than she anticipated. Softer, but she braced for rejection. He could be playing a trick, setting her up for a big burn, but their next kiss started where the last left off.

She tried to direct it. Michael's syncopated chaos made her guidance a requirement, but Hyde had his own rhythm. She caught on and pressed her palm against the side of his face, enjoying the movement of his jaw. His hand glided to the back of her head, and her body became electric.

This was the excitement she'd been missing. Michael was plainly the problem, not her, but Hyde withdrew again.

She inhaled loudly through her nose. "What now?"

"When do you turn sixteen?"

"Really?" Her coat dangled off the spool table, and she gripped the edge of it. "My sweet sixteen was the bash of the year, remember? It was September twenty-fourth. _Duh._"

He draped his arm over the top of the couch. "I don't remember 'cause I wasn't invited."

"You weren't?" She went through her memory of the party, of all the happy faces. Hyde's wasn't among them. "Right. Sorry."

"Huh."

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

His palms skimmed her cheeks and warmed her ears. Their mouths met, and she pulled herself closer to him. She needed to be closer, like she'd been freezing and was finally by a crackling fire.

The next time they parted, it was mutual. His hands landed on her waist, and he gazed at her with thoughts she hungered to hear. Maybe he was waiting for her to talk, but her mind swirled with what she'd just done. What she and _Hyde _had done.

"Well," he said with a grin, "that was a nice start."

"S-start?" She was shaking, and the tremor had vibrated into her voice.

"Unless you wanna call it quits."

"No." She buried her trembling fingers into his hair, mostly to hide how much he'd affected her, and drew him in for another kiss.

* * *

Curiosity had led Hyde down a dangerous road. Kissing Jackie was putting scary thoughts in his head, but his body didn't give a shit. It wanted more.

She matched his every move, even challenged him. He was only ten months older than her, so age wasn't an issue, but where they might be headed … "This working for you?" he said.

"Huh?"

He patted her leg, attempting to snap her out of _make-out _stupor. But her flushed lips and cheeks sent his remaining blood south. "Us doin' this," he said and sat back from her. "Don't wanna push you more than—"

Her dazed eyes narrowed with focus. She grasped his shoulders, scooted herself onto his lap, and pressed her lips to his.

That had to be a definite yes, but she was bound to feel his hard-on. For safety's sake, he adjusted her position on his lap then let himself go. Her apple-scented shampoo soaked into his nostrils. Her turtleneck nuzzled his chin, and her stroking fingers soothed his skull. He'd been so fixated on Donna the last few months he forgot how nice meaningless make-outs were.

"Wow," Jackie said after pulling away. She stayed on his lap, though, and looped her arms around his neck. "I thought you might be a good kisser because you're cool like the Fonz, and he—"

"James Dean, man." He drummed his fingers on the small of her back. "If we gotta go with someone who wears a leather jacket, go with Dean. Not the freakin' Fonz."

"What's wrong with the Fonz?"

"He's a pair of sideburns away from being as lame as disco."

"But you have sideburns."

"And I'm _way _less lame than disco."

"Disco isn't..." She heaved out a breath. "At least you can dance to it."

"Still lame."

"But you can dance to it."

He clenched his jaw. This was one reason he and Forman hounded Kelso daily to ditch her. She couldn't accept other people's opinions. "Who the hell cares?"

"You're a good dancer." Her arms slipped from his neck, and her shoulders hunched. "That's all."

_Shit. _She'd seen him dance at the Kenosha disco six weeks ago. He'd mistaken her observation for tyranny, and he rubbed his jaw. Receiving and giving out compliments weren't skills he had. "And you're a good..."

"Kisser?" she said.

"I haven't puked."

She grimaced and slapped his chest. "I mean it. Do you think I'm a good kisser?"

"Look at where you're sitting."

She glanced down at herself, still on his lap, and let out a small laugh. "How'd I get here?"

"Yeah, it's embarrassing," he said and tapped her back playfully. "You gonna tell me why you wanted to fool around with me?"

"No, you wanted to make out with me."

He squinted at her. "You're the one who came up with the idea."

"Because I thought that's what you were going to ask me in the kitchen."

She was clearly as confused as he was, but they had almost no experience talking to each other. Whenever she hung around his group, she insulted him. He burned her, and that was the sum of their interaction. But guessing games wouldn't work. He had to find out if they'd both become assholes tonight and why.

"What's goin' on with you and Kelso?" he said.

"What about you and Donna?"

"There is no me and Donna."

She checked her watch. "I have to go home soon to—"

"Prepare gift baskets for the 'less fortunate bums'?"

"Yeah. So—" she touched his lips with her fingers—"one last kiss before we swear never to say a word to anyone about this?"

He burrowed his hand in her hair. She was being cagey about her motives, but that was probably for the best. "Sure."

Getting over Donna would hurt. It already did, but Jackie's mouth was some kind of drug. Kissing her gave him a high he might not find elsewhere. Not until he'd gone through dozens of other girls and became sick to his stomach.

When her lips pulled free from his, his whole face was buzzing. "That was a nice end," he said, ready to let her go. Kelso would kill him for tonight, but Kelso wasn't going to learn about it.

"Who said I was done? I was just catching my breath."

"If that's how you wanna spin it..."

"It is."

She palmed his over-sensitive cheek and entered his mouth deeply. His body pleaded with him to go further, but he wouldn't do that to her—or himself. He hadn't enjoyed kissing, _just _kissing, anyone like this in too damn long, but a shout splintered his euphoria.

It wasn't from Jackie. Forman and Donna were gaping at them from the basement stairs, and Jackie yanked Hyde's sweater so hard he jerked toward her.

"I'm blind!" Forman yelled and clutched the wooden bannister. Donna was gripping his wrist, and Hyde's shoulders slumped. He and Jackie had been caught.


	2. The Best Gift of All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER TWO**  
THE BEST GIFT OF ALL**

Donna and Forman charged across the basement to the couch. Neither Hyde or Jackie moved, but Jackie's weight seemed to grow heavier on his lap. Being caught by Donna was a killer. Didn't matter if she had feelings for him or not. He couldn't shake the sense he'd betrayed her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Donna said, and he stared at her with too many thoughts in his head. Whatever joy Jackie had injected into his body was gone, and Donna nudged his shoulder. "Hyde!"

"I don't know," he said, and Jackie jumped off his lap. She fled from him, from the whole sitch, and the basement's back door slammed.

Forman grasped his hair and yanked it into odd angles. "No, no, no, no, no. This is bad. This is so bad!"

"Actually..." Hyde smiled at his memory of the last half-hour, even as his treachery burned in his chest. "It was pretty good.

"Man, you were swapping spit with the enemy!" Forman said. "How could that be good?"

Donna smacked Forman's arm. "Stick to what's important: she's Kelso's girlfriend! Hyde, how could you do that to him?"

"She offered. I accepted."

Donna shook her head, like she hadn't understood him. "She offered?"

"But you accepted!" Forman said. "What are we gonna tell Kelso?

"That his girlfriend cheated on him with me," Hyde said and pulled his leg out from under his butt. It was stiff from staying in one position for so long. But if Forman and Donna were going to squeal, they might as well squeal the truth.

"Yeah!" Donna said, but her attention shifted to Forman. "Wait ... no. Remember in eighth grade when Kelso was supposed to hang out with Debbie Thornton, and she ditched him to go to see _Young Frankenstein _with me?"

"Oh, man, right!" Forman glanced at the ceiling, as if that would conjure the incident in his skull. "I was the one who had to tell him. He said you stole his future wife, and then he sneaked into your house and kept stealing your records."

Donna tugged at her long sleeves. "And my shirts. He just wouldn't let it go. There's no way we can tell him about what we've seen here."

"Okay. … Okay." Forman was breathing hard, and he looked at Hyde. "Do you ever plan on committing that horrible crime against nature again?

"Didn't plan on it this time," Hyde said. "It just happened."

"Nothing 'just' happens," Donna said, "but it can't happen again. People make mistakes..." She spread her hands apart from each other. "You and Jackie simply made a mistake."

"Like my dad did once," Forman said and picked at a couch thread. "Mom told me she caught him kissing another woman at the movies—well, she called it 'a groping, sloppy, pawing, nibbling nightmare,' but she forgave him." The thread snapped off from the upholstery, and he dropped it to the floor. "So we'll pretend like Kelso's forgiven you and Jackie, and we'll act like everything's gone back to normal."

Donna nodded. "That plan sounds good to me."

"It's a sound plan," Forman said.

"Cool." Hyde stood from the couch. "See you later."

He headed for the back door, where Jackie had gone, but Forman called after him. "Don't forget your job for the party!"

"Beer's not something I ever forget."

He exited into the cold evening air. Jackie wasn't waiting for him on the staircase, not that he'd expected her to. But he'd have to tell her they were in the free and clear, thanks to Forman's logic.

* * *

Hyde strolled into his kitchen the next morning, wiping sand from his eyes. Sitting on the grimy counter, over two five-dollar bills, was a note scrawled in his ma's handwriting: "Steven, left with Uncle Glenn for the weekend. Use the money for food or whatever. Merry Christmas."

He scooped up the fivers. With them, he had a total of sixteen bucks, enough to buy that perfume Donna liked. He'd have four dollars left for food, but his ma could be gone longer than three days. School was on break for almost two weeks, until January third.

Two bucks would have to go to fresh milk. His breakfast consisted of Frosted Flakes and milk just on the edge of spoiled. He could eat his cereal dry until Edna got back, but buying that perfume would be stupid. Mainly because pursuing Donna was pointless. Watching her and Forman conspire together yesterday had confirmed that.

The right gift for Donna had to be in in his room. Hyde opened the splintered drawer of his nightstand. Inside was a photo of himself and Donna in middle school. It was a reminder that not everyone was like his folks, that some people actually gave a shit about him.

He considered framing the photo and giving it to Donna … out of _friendship. _Thinking of her that way kicked his heart in the stones, but he'd have to get used to it.

* * *

Cutting the Formans a Christmas tree from the interstate was one of Hyde's smarter ideas. It had given him and Kelso forty bucks to spend on beer. They bought two cases at the liquor store, plenty for Forman's party, but Kelso insisted he hold onto the change.

It was a fight Hyde didn't pursue, despite that ten bucks would buy a cart full of groceries. Frenching Kelso's girl last night had put Hyde in debt. Letting Kelso have the dough was the least he could do.

They carried the beer to the Formans' and down the exterior staircase. Kelso was moving fast, and Hyde said, "Make sure to check the basement before you go in, man. If Red catches us, we're screwed."

"Don't worry. I know how to sneak around parents." They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Kelso opened the basement door a crack. "I wish I could sneak around Jackie," he said and peeked inside. "She had me driving her around town today like a chauffeur."

"Again with Jackie?" Hyde's fingers tightened around his case of beer. Kelso had complained about Jackie the whole time at the liquor store. "Why don't you just break up with her, like you keep saying you're gonna do?"

"Oh, I will."

Kelso entered the basement. It had to be safe, and Hyde followed. Donna and Forman were by the aluminum Christmas tree, facing opposite directions from each other. A benign enough sight, but they seemed embarrassed, like they'd been making out. Or maybe seeing Hyde and Kelso breathe the same air stabbed at their conscience.

"Hey, Eric, where do we put the beer?" Kelso said, and Mrs. Forman appeared at the top of the wooden stairs.

Hyde prepared to back out of the basement, but Forman whispered, "Put it in the ice chest! Shh! Shh!"

Kelso and Hyde hurried into a storage room. They unloaded beer from the cases, but Laurie's muffled voice slipped through the closed door. Kelso jetted back outside, leaving Hyde to take care of the beer himself—_shit. _Kelso pitched a tent whenever he was around Laurie, and Hyde slammed the door after him.

A few minutes later, Hyde left the storage room. He had an innocent explanation ready to go, in case Mrs. Forman questioned him. But she was gone, and Fez had arrived with a shopping bag. He put it on the lawn chair, and Kelso shouted, "I thought we said no gifts!"

Laurie winced beside him. He'd probably bored her with dopey come-ons, hoping she'd push him onto the couch and nail him.

"No, Kelso," Forman said by back door. "You said no gifts."

Donna stood next to him, cradling a cardboard box. She pulled out an acorn from it and said, "What's Christmas without gifts?"

Hyde leaned back against the deep-freeze. Donna and Forman had lost their awkwardness. Instead, they resembled a couple who'd been dating for months. Her elbow flexed and bent against him as she rummaged through the box. Forman showed no reaction to it, like he was comfortable with any kind of touch she gave him.

The display was sickening. It represented a closeness Hyde would never have with anyone, and he focused on Kelso. "Where's your heart, man?"

Kelso gestured wildly. "Nobody tells me anything around here! Now I gotta go get something for Jackie. She'll kill me!"

A bowl of punch sat on the spool table. Laurie ladled a plastic cup to the brim and offered it to him. "Hey, cheer up. Have some punch!"

"I don't want any punch. I gotta get a gift for Jackie!" Kelso tilted his head and softened his voice. "Who I'm breaking up with."

He bolted from the basement. Hyde quirked up an eyebrow, and Donna and Forman exchanged looks. Jackie must've sensed Kelso's ambivalence toward her. That had to explain her behavior last night. Kelso would cheat on her in a second if Laurie, or any girl, gave him the chance.

Jackie had simply found a willing partner first.

* * *

Eric's Christmas party was full of juniors and a few seniors from school. They crowded the basement with beers in their hands. Even people from popular cliques were in attendance, but Jackie was the prettiest girl here. She wore the matching plaid blazer and pants she'd bought for the occasion. She hadn't spilled any punch on them either. It tasted funny but made her feel amazing, like she had no limits anymore.

Michael hadn't shown up yet. She'd looked for him everywhere but upstairs, at the Formans' boring adult party. Maybe Donna and Eric had blabbed. She could find out, but they were talking to Hyde in the laundry area ... and Jackie had to stay far away from Hyde. Kissing him was a horrible mistake. A horrible, intoxicating mistake.

She needed more punch. Her cup was empty, and she joined her friends by the couch. They had Fez and the punch bowl surrounded. Their cups were full, but they couldn't hoard the punch for themselves. Or Fez.

"Hello, my darlings," he said to her friends. "And when I say _hello, _you know what I mean."

Jackie squeezed past Stacy, who sat sidesaddle on the back of the couch. Jackie had to reclaim her place and grasped Fez's chin. "Hey," she said, "he was my friend first!"

"Jackie, this is for you." That was Michael's voice, and she turned toward it. He was finally here, standing before her like a dream, and he gave her a paper bag the size of a pumpkin.

Hope swelled in her chest. The bag was heavy. If it wasn't filled with coal, then Donna and Eric hadn't blabbed, after all. "Oh, Michael, what is it?"

He didn't answer, so she opened the bag. Inside was exactly what she'd wanted for Christmas.

"It's hot rollers!" she said, and her grin felt too big for her face. "With steam! You really do listen to me."

"Of course I do. You talk all the time! Anyway, a month ago, you told me you hated styling wands and liked using hot rollers. But yours broke, so you had to use your mom's. So I got you those."

Her grin fell into a frown. That limitless feeling the punch had given her was gone, and she wobbled on her feet. "I didn't get you anything!"

"But you always buy me presents," he said, and she grasped his wrist for balance. "You bought me that shirt for our one-week anniversary. And a horse-back riding lesson for the one-month anniversary we made out in public. And then there was the stuffed dog for the three-week anniversary of our first trip to Funland." He laughed. "You sure do like anniversaries."

"I wasn't in the mood to get you a present."

"Well, I know what you can give me tonight: the _big _gift."

The big gift was sex, but she and Michael were far, _far_ away from that. She risked a glimpse at Hyde. He was still talking to Donna and Eric, and her time with him yesterday buzzed through her mind.

"My gift to you is being faithful, Michael," she said and put the bag of hot rollers on the floor. "I promise I will never, ever, ever kiss another boy."

"Wait, you're gonna stop kissing me?"

"No, I'm _only _gonna kiss you, you idiot!"

"Oh. Cool."

Her throat hurt. She shouldn't have called him an idiot, and she thrust her arms around him. "I'm sorry."

He patted her back. "It's okay. You can buy me a gift for New Year's."

She mashed her face against his chest. He didn't understand, but her thoughts were slippery. She couldn't concentrate or explain herself properly. So she let him ago and showed off her new hot rollers to her friends.

* * *

The party had lasted a good hour. No one had left yet, but Donna sat alone on the couch. Hyde wouldn't get a better chance than this. He swigged his second beer of the night and approached her. "Hey," he said quietly, "could we talk in private a sec?"

"Hyde, if you want to make out with me, the answer's no."

His stomach tensed, but her answer had to be a coincidence. Jackie wouldn't have told her how she'd propositioned him. "Just wanna talk."

"Okay."

He led her toward the storage room where he'd stashed the beer earlier. They passed Jackie and Kelso on the way. They were hanging out nearby, and Jackie was slurring her words.

That was bad. She'd gotten wasted. From his experience with drunks, they couldn't keep their mouths shut. Jackie seemed to have trouble doing that sober, too, and he scrambled to unlock the storage room.

The key was tiny. Forman had given it to him, wanted the storage room locked to stop people from screwing in there. But the key didn't turn easily, especially in his anxious grip. He blew out a breath. If Jackie spotted him, it might prompt her to snitch to Kelso. The basement would blow up in about five seconds, but the lock clicked open.

He darted inside the room and, once Donna entered, flipped on the light. He shut the door and tried to give her space, but it wasn't easy among the Formans' cardboard boxes, a busted bicycle, and the ice chest.

"So what's up?" she said, shining at him like the goddamn moon, even through his shades.

His body reacted, running on automatic, to feelings he'd had no time to purge. Before yesterday, he might've given into them. Palmed her cheeks and kissed her—to learn what it felt like, to see how she'd respond, if she responded at all. But he backed up into a cardboard box and shoved his thumbs into his belt loops. "Remember two weeks back," he said, "when Forman was palling around with Buddy Morgan?"

She chuckled. "You ranted about it like a maniac."

"Yeah. Anyway, you said you'd always be my friend, and I felt up your leg."

"Hard to forget that. I offered you sympathy, and you were an ass."

"Well, I get what you meant, man." He slid off his shades and hooked them on his shirt collar. "You'll always be my friend. _Only _my friend."

She gaped at him and covered her mouth. "Hyde, oh, my God. I didn't—I mean, I really didn't think you..." Her hand slipped to her chin. "When you said you wanted to kiss me at the disco, I thought you were joking."

"Said I wasn't, but it doesn't matter." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I get how you feel about Forman, and how I feel about you won't change that. I'm..."

The memory of rubbing her leg burned in his fingers. She'd pried his hand off her then, and he'd thought it was funny. But his touch must've been callous to her. He knew all too well what that was like.

"I'm sorry for pulling that crap on you," he said, "at the disco and the basement. Won't happen again. We've been friends a long time, and I'm not gonna do anything to fuck that up."

"Like Frenching Kelso's girlfriend?"

The storage room was cramped enough, but the walls seemed to grow thicker, penning him in. "I plead temporary insanity."

"It must've been because you and Jackie—" she twirled her finger by her temple—"it's insane!" She leaned her hip against the ice chest, closing some of the distance between them. "But Kelso's being a total dillhole. He's obviously stringing Jackie along until he gets a 'better offer'. Did you seehim with Laurie this afternoon?"

"Yup. Kid's got it bad."

"I think, maybe, Jackie's beginning to pick up on Kelso's lack of—I don't know—commitment? Loyalty? I don't know."

"Me neither, but whatever it is, she ain't happy." He gestured to his face. "Why else would she kiss this mug?"

Donna nudged his shoulder, more gently than she had last night. "Your 'mug' is fine. But I think I get why _you _kissed _her. _And although I'm not sorry for how I feel about Eric, I am sorry it hurts you."

A knot formed in his throat. Listening to her stung worse than the last time his ma hit him. "I'll get over it."

"By kissing Jackie again?"

"Hell no. That was a stupid, one-time thing. I've said what I needed to say to you. I'm cool."

She half-smiled and opened her arms to him. "Bring it in."

He hugged her loosely, but his eyes squeezed shut. After what he'd done, this could've been goodbye, but she hadn't cut him loose. He wouldn't take that, or her, for granted.

"I will always be your friend," she said and rubbed his back. "Okay? You can count on me."

"Same here."

He held onto her a little longer, but the storage room door creaked. His eyes snapped open, and he cursed under his breath. Forman was standing in the doorway, face flushing. "You're after my girlfriend, too?"

Donna let Hyde go. "Girlfriend? Since when am I your..." She put up her hand and shook her head. "It was just a hug, Eric."

"A friendly hug," Hyde said.

Forman stepped deeper into the room. "Friendly?"

"Yes!" Donna grasped his shoulders. "Don't start getting paranoid."

Hyde hiked his thumb at himself. "Yeah, that's my deal. Bein' the scrawny little neighbor boy is yours."

"Well, okay, then," Forman said. "Why don't we all get out of this closet, and you can open my present."

Forman guided Donna out of the storage room, but Hyde stayed behind. He'd left his photo of him and Donna in his drawer. He couldn't let it go, and he put his shades back on. Only good part about this Christmas season: it was almost over.

* * *

Back at the party, Donna reclaimed her spot on the couch. Forman sat next to her, and Hyde dropped onto in his usual chair. Watching her unwrap Forman's present, White Shoulders, was a crowbar to his skull. Forman could afford that perfume; his allowance had paid for it. He loved a big gesture and being downright theatrical sometimes. He wasn't poetic, but he expressed himself a lot easier than Hyde.

Donna kissed Forman's cheek and studied the box of perfume, and Forman grinned, like he was happy he'd made her happy. Apparently, that made him boyfriend material. Oh, fucking well.

"Sorry I didn't give you anything," Hyde said to her.

She touched his knee. "No, you did."

"What?" Forman said. "What did he—"

"Eric!" Red's voice bellowed from the wooden staircase. Seconds later, the man himself walked behind Hyde, who straightened his posture. "Before you explain the beer," Red said, "maybe you can tell me why there are two State Troopers in the living room confiscating our Christmas tree."

Forman rose from the couch. "Oh, that. Funny story—and a true story. You're gonna laugh."

Red glowered at him. "Get to the point!

"We cut down a tree of the side of the interstate."

Hyde pressed down on his leg. This was not going to be pretty. Forman had broken like a Pringles cracker, and Kelso was sneaking around Red's back. He should've run in the other direction, but he grabbed a Popsicle from the deep-freeze.

"Well, that's just great, Eric," Red said. "The party's over. You're grounded, and I want what's left of my forty bucks."

Forman pointed over Red's shoulder. "Kelso, give it to him."

"Oh, no." Red turned toward Kelso.

"Yeah," Kelso said and looked down at his shoes. "I sort of spent it on Jackie's gift."

Jackie dashed to him. "Oh, Michael, my hot rollers! You got in trouble for me, Michael?" She hugged him with a sloppy grip. "Oh, I love you, Michael!"

Kelso shoved his hands in his pockets, as if her affection embarrassed him. Hyde couldn't completely blame him. Jackie had just confirmed Kelso's crime, but she thrust her finger at Hyde. "And Hyde loves Donna!"

Hyde cringed. Drunk-Jackie was as bad as he'd feared, and Forman's eyes became like two Christmas baubles, entirely round and glassy. "What the hell is going on this Christmas?" Forman shouted.

"That's what I want to know!" Red jabbed his thumb at Jackie. "Eric, have these girls been drinking?"

"No. Look, Dad, I swear, it's just mom's punch!"

Red picked up the punch bowl and sipped from the ladle. "Lousy with hooch!"

Hyde pinched the bridge of his nose. No wonder Jackie was sloshed. She'd been downing that stuff like water, and she clung to Kelso like he'd be tossed in jail any second.

"Come, on Jackie," Red said. "I'll take you and the sob sisters home." He waved at the Budweiser cans on the washing machine. "Eric, the rest of that beer goes into my refrigerator. Donna, your father is upstairs. I suggest you join him. Steven, you help Eric clean up, and Kelso … go home!"

Kelso hightailed it out of the basement. He'd gotten off lucky, and he had to know it.

Jackie and her friends trailed Red up the wooden staircase. Two of the chicks were crying, and Fez said, "Eric, do something! Your father is taking my women!" and chased after them.

Only Hyde, Donna, and Forman were left in the basement. The party had been decent despite how it ended. Red hadn't kicked Hyde out of the house like Kelso either. Being treated like family was nice, even if it came in the form of an order.

"Thanks for the gifts, guys," Donna said. Two wrapped presents were in her hands. She must've gotten them from the tree during Red's interrogation. "Merry Christmas."

She passed Forman and Hyde the presents and went upstairs. Tonight had been heavy on her. On both of them. His friendship with her was secure, but Forman had caught them hugging in a storage room. Jackie's drunken accusation probably reinforced his suspicions, but he didn't poke Hyde in the chest. Or sputter that their friendship was done. He unwrapped his present.

Underneath the shiny paper was a black jewelry box. He opened it secretively and shut it fast.

"So, what'd you get?" Hyde said.

"ID bracelet."

"Cool. Got your name on it?"

"Yeah. What'd you get?"

Hyde tore the wrapping paper off a white paper box. Inside was a pair of … "Tube socks!"

"Good!" Forman said, unnecessarily territorial. "I mean, tube socks are good!"

"They are." Hyde was on his last pair of socks without holes, and he smiled to himself. It was a friendship gift. He'd been right to back off, but without Jackie's intervention, he might've hurt Donna worse than he already had. So, in a real way, Jackie gave him the best gift of all this Christmas … even though it had led to a crazy, hot make-out with her.


	3. Cold and Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER THREE**  
COLD AND HOT**

Hyde and Fez flanked Forman as he studied a road map of southeast Wisconsin. They were alone in Forman's basement, and without the chaos of a crowd, Hyde had no trouble visually marking the route from Point Place to Lafayette.

"All right, guys. This is no sweat," Forman said with a grin. "If we leave right after school tomorrow, we should make it to Jackie's ski cabin by, like, six o'clock."

Hyde clutched his belt buckle and grinned, too. Normally, he wouldn't be so damn showy with how he felt, but he couldn't help it. "Man, I can't wait. A trip to my favorite place: anywhere but here."

Ever since his ma came back from her little trip with "Uncle" Glenn, she'd been more intolerable—and wasted—than usual. A break-up always did that to her, but at least January was long-sleeve weather. That let him hide the four scabs on his arm where she'd drunkenly grabbed him.

Forman folded up the map and climbed onto the back of the couch. Fez sprang over the couch in an impressive leap and landed on its cushions. Hyde, though, plunked down on the chair no one else found comfortable. Any place he could rest his ass that wasn't home worked for him.

"I'm betting that Alpine Valley is gonna give the Kid many make-out opportunities with Donna this weekend," Forman said and eyed Hyde conspiratorially. "The Kid is in."

"What's with the whole 'Kid' thing?" Hyde said.

"It's cool," Forman said, and Hyde stared at him. After all the years they'd been friends, some of Hyde's badassery should've rubbed off on him, but Forman seemed immune. He turned toward Fez, probably for a second opinion. "It's not cool?"

"Not cool," Fez said. "Dorky."

He was right about that, but if Jackie's folks were the ski-all-day type, Forman would get plenty of make-out time. Maybe the chance to do more. Hyde could handle it. He had the last three weeks, even if Donna and Forman's cutesy closeness cramped his stomach.

The basement's back door swung open, and Kelso strutted inside. He was smiling like he'd finally figured out why books were numbered on every page. "Guess who made out with Pam Macy behind the gym?"

"Everyone," Hyde said. Pam was one of those chicks who didn't discriminate. He liked those kinds of chicks.

Kelso pointed to himself. "No, me!"

Eric and Fez gaped at this news, but Hyde shrugged. A cheat for a cheat. Now Kelso and Jackie were even. Ever since Christmas Eve, they'd been see-sawing from one extreme to the other, sickeningly affectionate or fighting so loudly it wasn't entertaining. That crap could finally stop.

"Kelso, a lot of people hang out behind the gym," Forman said.

"Yeah, that's what's so great about it," Kelso said. "Everybody saw it!"

Hyde's skull started to pound. He needed this weekend, but Kelso had bulldozed it by cheating in public. "Oh, that's great, man. Yeah, because then everybody can tell Jackie, you moron!"

"And then she's gonna dump you," Forman said, "and we won't be able to go up to her ski cabin!"

"She's never gonna find out," Kelso said, but Jackie tore into the basement at his last syllable.

"You are a dog, Michael." She shoved her finger in his face. "A dirty, dirty dog!"

"What did I do?"

"You kissed Pam Macy!" Fez said.

Kelso shrieked, as if Fez had falsely accused him, and Hyde glanced away. Kelso was done, along with Hyde's chance to get out of town.

"I thought you weren't happy with me," Jackie said, "ever since the Todd Rungerment concert. But you lied then, and you kept lying!" She gestured at Fez. "You had friends listening on our private conversations and telling you what to say, and I'm sure there's more I don't know about."

She scowled up at him. Kelso had a foot of height on her, but her fury made her appear taller. "And now all my friends are laughing at me. I can't even show my face in the third-floor bathroom anymore—and that's the cool bathroom!"

"But I—"

"No, Michael. We're through."

"Okay, if that's the way you want it, we're through," Kelso said. "And Monday, when we get back from that ski trip, it's over!"

"No, Michael. No, no, no, no, no. You won't be skiing this weekend."

She sat between Forman and Fez on the couch, swiped a comic book from the spool table, and flipped through it. But if she thought she had a place here, despite her half-friendship with Donna and make-out with Hyde, a load of disappointment would drop on her head.

"That's just great Jackie," Kelso shouted behind her. "Cancel the ski trip and disappoint all our friends!"

"Oh, no, no, no." She patted Forman and Fez's legs. "_We_ are still going."

Hyde pushed his knuckles against his lips, to stop another show of emotion. He'd have to rethink his Jackie ban. Not punishing Kelso's friends for Kelso's lack of judgment was a classy move.

"Well, they're surely not going without me." Kelso looked at Hyde, Forman, and Fez in turn. "Right guys?"

Hyde said nothing. Neither did Forman and Fez. Hyde was going to Alpine Valley, with or without Kelso. He had to get the hell out of Point Place.

"Oh, and did I mention my parents are not coming?" Jackie's gaze fell on Hyde. "So it'll be just us."

He squinted at her through his shades. That sounded like another proposition.

So..." Forman grinned like he had when studying the road map, and he planted his hand on Kelso's back. "We'll see you Monday!"

A combo of disbelief and betrayal clouded Kelso's eyes. Hyde recognized it, understood it, but Kelso had screwed himself with his bad timing.

* * *

The next day after school, Hyde brought his duffel and rolled-up sleeping bag to the Formans'. Clumps of days' old snow dotted the driveway. The Vista Cruiser was parked in front of the garage, and its right-side doors were open. Between them, Mrs. Forman talked to Fez quietly, but Donna stepped out from the Formans' kitchen.

Seeing her gnawed at Hyde's insides. She was dressed in a matching scarf and winter hat. What girls wore didn't matter to him, unless it was tight or showed skin, but he always noticed what Donna had on. It pissed him off. Twenty-five days of "letting her go" should've been enough time to erase seven years of feelings.

Right.

She approached him, duffel dangling from both hands, and nodded at his sleeping bag. "Is that a double?"

"It's the only one I got." His uncle Chet had given it to him a few years back, before getting busted for grand theft auto. The sleeping bag was clean, warm, and the zippers worked. Nothing more he could ask for.

"And you should've unzipped it and brought one half as a single," she said. "What are you up to?"

He laughed, but playing dumb would be useless. Their conversation on Christmas Eve had revealed too much. "I got no expectations," he said, "if that's what you're getting at."

"You better not. Because Jackie's vulnerable right now, and I don't want you using her."

His grip tightened on the sleeping bag. "That's what you think of me?

"No..." She expelled a deep breath. "Just don't do anything that'll hurt her, okay? She might be more annoying than usual because of the breakup. And she _is _being hypocritical, considering..." She gestured at him. "You know. But I really think she kind of guessed about Kelso, that he was going to cheat on her, so she did it first."

"Who did what first?" Fez said. He'd left Mrs. Forman, who was inside the Vista Cruiser, cleaning up the front seat.

"Leif Eriksson discovered America centuries before Columbus," Hyde said.

"Right!" Donna said. "And Leif's dad was known as Erik the Red."

"Erik the Red?" Fez's mouth dropped open. "Are Eric and his father the same person?

Hyde clapped Fez's shoulder. "They might just be, man. Let's talk about it more in the car."

"Okay," Fez said, and Donna glanced at Hyde in relief. This weekend was off to a rough start. But if Jackie did want to fool around this weekend, Hyde wouldn't say no.

* * *

Jackie clutched her knees in the back seat of Eric's car. In good weather, her family's ski cabin was only two hours from Point Place, but snow started falling an hour ago. Old snow was already on the ground, making driving more difficult, and the dark night didn't help either.

Eric seemed a competent driver, though. They were two-thirds to Alpine Valley, but the last third might take forever. They were on the Burlington Bypass with no buildings in sight. Fez was up front with Donna and Eric, talking about topics Jackie had no interest in. She and Hyde were alone in the back seat, but she hadn't said much. Just thought … and thought … and thought about all that went wrong between her and Michael.

Him kissing Pam Macy was a natural progression. She never should have trusted him.

Her teeth chattered, but she wasn't cold. Not speaking this long was hard, but Fez didn't know she'd made out with Hyde. Donna and Eric probably thought she was a hypocrite or caused Michael to cheat on her. They were just using her for her ski cabin anyway, and she was using the ski cabin as a bribe for their friendship—and to burn Michael.

Without him, she had no reason to go to Eric's basement. Donna barely liked her, and instead of offering sympathy, Stacy, Sharon, and other girls at school ridiculed her. Because their friendship was based on popularity, and popularity was based on looks, money, and boyfriends.

Jackie's pulse quickened, and she tugged on her mittens. "Nothing in my social life is real."

"Huh?" Hyde said beside her.

"Nothing."

She stared at the darkness through her window. Snowflakes landed on the glass, unmelting, but they'd eventually turn into water. Transformation was inevitable for almost everything, but Michael had made her a social pariah. He hadn't only cheated on her. He'd cheated with the easiest girl in school, and Jackie was forced to skip lunch today at school. The jokes at her expense were too much. _She'd _become a joke.

"I have never seen snow before!" Fez said. "It is so beautiful!"

"Do you know what the best part of this whole trip is?" she said, unable to contain her thoughts anymore. "That Michael isn't here! He'd just be sitting here, lying and lying and lying. I'm so relieved I broke up with him before we ever made love—"

Fez turned in the front seat and looked at her. "You did not sleep with him yet? This trip keeps on getting better!"

"Okay, Jackie, inside voice," Eric said. "No one needs to know about your sex life. It was bad enough at the drive-in, sitting on top of my car while you and Kelso dry-humped..." He laughed uncomfortably, and the back of his head twitched. "Even though Donna and I thought you two were having sex like rabbits in here. Because the Cruiser was really rocking—"

"What was that about an inside voice, Eric?" Donna said.

Hyde gestured to a cardboard box wedged into the back of the car. It was barely visible among all the luggage. "Forman, man, what's all this crap that Red gave you?"

He'd changed the subject on purpose. Jackie was sure of it, and she was glad he did. She had no problem talking about sex, but she preferred doing it one-on-one, not in a group.

"I don't know," Eric said. "He's obsessed with kitty litter. I think he might be going insane."

"You know who's insane?" Jackie said, but the car swerved. The momentum threw her against Hyde, who was pressed against the door. She screamed, along with Fez, and Donna, but the car stopped moving. Eric must have stomped on the break.

"Far out!" Hyde sat upright, pushing Jackie up in the process. She should've put on her seat belt before Eric pulled out of his driveway, but if Hyde thought that near-death experience was fun, he was the insane one.

"What the hell was that?" Donna said.

"I guess we hit some ice," Eric said, and the engine growled. He was pressing on the gas, but the car refused to move. "Oh, great! We're stuck."

He stepped outside with Donna, Fez, and Hyde. Jackie had no intention of doing the same, but they left the car doors open, and she shivered at the cold. The snowfall was growing heavier by the second. They'd be buried if Eric didn't fix his stupid clunker, but Fez gathered snow in his bare hands like a child.

"Look," he said. "I made my first snowball! I love snow so much my fingers are numb with joy!"

"That's frostbite, Fez," Donna said.

"How rude!" Fez tossed the snowball to the ground. "I hate your white man's winter!"

Donna grasped the Vista Cruiser's driver-side door. "Get in the car, Fez. Get in the car."

He listened to her, and they both sat in the front seat again. They shut their doors, but Hyde was hugging himself, shoulders hunched and hair white with snow. He'd get sick if he stayed out there much longer, and Jackie shouted, "Eric, do something!"

"Yeah, man. Stop goofing around!" Hyde pulled the cardboard box of supplies from the back of the car and shoved it into Eric's arms. "Wow, it's freezing!"

He scooted beside Jackie, bringing the cold with him, but he closed the rear door. His hands were red. He rubbed them together and blew on them, and she said, "Do you want my mittens?"

"I'm cool."

"You're an icicle."

"That, too. Shit..."

He continued to blow on his hands, and she continued to watch him. He'd kept his wits outside and given Eric that roadside kit. Unlike Michael, he had common sense. If Eric was as smart, he'd get them free.

Hyde's coat was open and covered in snow. She swept snowflakes off his shoulders, and he looked at her funny, as if no one had ever done that for him before.

She removed her mittens from her hands and offered them to him again. He refused, splaying his fingers. His hands were a lot bigger than hers, if that was the point he was making, but he could ball them into fists inside the wool.

She set the mittens between them, in case he changed his mind, but his focus shifted to the window. Eric was busy melting the snow behind the tire, using a candle inside a can. Clever, but so was she.

Hyde was available. She'd enjoyed kissing him, and she wouldn't mind kissing him again. Her palm slid over the top of his thigh. His jeans put a chill into her skin, and his gaze shot to her hand.

She held her breath as his chest rose and fell, but his attention returned to the window. Her hand grew warmer on his leg.

This weekend might not be totally miserable, after all.


	4. No Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER FOUR**  
NO EXPECTATIONS**

Forman had done a good job freeing the Vista Cruiser from the snow. Once they got to Jackie's cabin, he insisted on carrying all the luggage himself. He did a good job of that, too, and Hyde was impressed. But maybe that was Forman's motivation: to impress Donna with a feat of strength.

He dumped the duffels, suitcases, and sleeping bags beside a leather couch. Hyde was the last one inside the cabin and shut the front door, blocking the wind from outside.

"All right!" Donna said and surveyed the cabin. "We made it!"

Forman went to her side. "Yeah, just in time. That storm is getting nasty."

So was Hyde. Forman sounded like he'd launch into his tale of heroism again, and Hyde's icy fingers curled into a fist. "Candle, gum, coffee can," Hyde said, instead of smashing Forman's skull. "Flame shielded from wind. Melted snow behind tire. Kitty litter equals traction. Write a book, Forman."

"Maybe I will." Snowflakes dusted Forman's hair and jacket, but Donna didn't brush them off.

"Write it fast so I can burn it for heat!" Fez said in front of the fireplace. "I am so cold. The snow has stolen my manhood!"

Hyde rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up. This was Fez's first Wisconsin winter. He'd have to learn to live with a shrinking package, but Hyde's had grown in the Cruiser. Jackie touching his thigh, the suggestion in it … his body had responded. He eventually crossed his legs and placed his arm strategically to hide her affect on him.

No expectations. That was his motto for this weekend. She seemed interested in another thrill ride, but she could change her mind in a blink. Her last three weeks with Kelso was proof of that, but as long as Hyde could relax the next few days, he was golden.

"Okay, there's only one bedroom," Jackie said and stood between Donna and Forman. She put her mittened hands on their shoulders. "It was gonna be for Michael and me, but since our love is dead, you two should take it.

"All right!" Forman smiled at Donna. "You wanna go check out our room?"

"Definitely," Donna said.

Jackie pointed them to a door on the right. They disappeared into the bedroom, and Hyde began to settle in. Jackie had done him a favor. He wouldn't have to watch Forman and Donna fool around, and he dropped his scarf on a console table against the wall. It had to be antique. Smaller antiques were lined up on it, along with a silver candle holder and bottles of liquor.

Altogether, it was probably worth more dough than he'd ever earn, but only the booze interested him. Jackie's folks wouldn't notice if one went empty. Even if they did, he'd be gone long before they could pin it on him.

Fez fell to the floor on the opposite side of the cabin. He curled up on the rug and stuck his hands between his legs, shivering. The kid was suffering. Being melodramatic about it but suffering.

Jackie climbed over the top of the couch and sat by him. She hugged a pillow to her stomach, coat still on, but she should've lit up the fireplace. She wasn't all here. That much was obvious.

"I am freezing!" Fez said. "The winter in my country is seventy degrees!" He clutched Jackie's leg and nestled his cheek against it. "We must hold each other for warmth!"

She kicked her leg forward, trying to shake him off, but he clung to her like Edna's gluey mashed potatoes.

Hyde stepped in their direction. Fez had been waiting for an opportunity like this, when she'd be vulnerable enough to accept his advances. He'd told Hyde his plan more than once, and Hyde intended to pry him off her, but her next kick dislodged him. "I'm not holding anyone!" she said.

"Then I am going to die!" Fez pressed his back against the couch and laced his fingers over his knees.

"Okay, Fez," Hyde said. He wouldn't let Fez force himself on Jackie, but he couldn't let his buddy become a Popsicle, either. He'd give Fez his second sweater if he had to, but he scanned the bottles of liquor on the console table and found a winner: "Amaretto!"

He grabbed the hefty bottle. It was full, and he brought it to Fez. "You know what, man? This will warm you right up. Take a sip of that!"

Fez unscrewed the cap, tasted the booze, and grinned at Hyde. "Yum. Liquid candy!"

That was one problem solved. Hyde sat beside Jackie on the couch, but Fez leaned his head back and drank earnestly from the Amaretto bottle.

Jackie stared at Hyde, as if she wanted him to stop Fez. Hyde reached toward the bottle, but Fez leaned his head back farther. He was guzzling the Amaretto like a champ, like Hyde's ma, and Hyde hopped off the couch and snatched the bottle.

"Damn, man," Hyde said. The bottle felt a ton lighter empty. "You've got to take everything to extremes, huh?"

Fez licked his lips. "I had to drink all of it. I didn't want to die from the cold."

"Well, you might die 'cause you _did _drink all of it. That's twenty-four ounces of fifty-proof alcohol you just wolfed down, not to mention a shitload of sugar."

"He's not dying here," Jackie said. "I won't allow it." She indicated the remaining bottles on the console table. "We better hide those from him."

"Good idea. Drunks always wanna get drunker."

"Like your mom?"

Hyde's temple pulsed. He'd never told her about Edna, but Kelso probably had. "Yeah, like my mom. And my dad, but at least he's been gone the last seven years."

Fez laid his cheek on his bent knees. "Ooh, I am so warm now. So, so warm."

Hyde glanced at the empty bottle in his hand. "Where do we put this stuff where he can't get at it?"

"The bedroom," Jackie said. "You know how to jimmy a lock, right?"

"Since third grade."

"Great. We can store the bottles in my dad's liquor cabinet. Gather them up."

The tiny hairs on Hyde's nape bristled. Letting her order him around wouldn't become a habit, but she was trying to protect Fez. Hyde left the Amaretto bottle on the console table and collected the remaining bottles of liqueur: Cognac, Campari, and Jose Cuervo tequila.

"Ai, I am too warm," Fez said and removed his jacket.

Jackie went to the bedroom door and grasped the knob. It didn't turn. "Oh, God. What if they're doing it in there?"

"Then we're gonna ruin their good time," Hyde said. "Unlock the door."

"I don't have the key. It's my parents' bedroom, not mine."

He scrubbed his hand over his face. "You got two bobby pins?"

"Yes," she said, "but why two?"

"Need to make a lock pick and a torsion wrench."

She pulled the bobby pins out of her hair and exchanged them for the bottles of booze. He transformed the bobby pins into the tools he needed, straightening one and bending the other, and had the door open in seconds.

He peeked inside. Forman and Donna were on the bed, slobbering over each other. Streetlamps glowed through the snow-frosted windows, and Hyde opened the door wider. Bright light from the main room poured in, but Hyde's first clompy footsteps broke Forman and Donna's embrace.

"Hyde, what the hell? Forman said.

Hyde held up the bottles of booze. "Fez drank too much. Makin' sure he doesn't drink any more."

"How much is too much?" Donna said.

"Twenty-four ounces of Amaretto," Jackie said.

Donna propped herself up on her elbows. "Oh, wow. That is a lot."

"He's gonna feel no pain tonight," Hyde said, "and all pain tomorrow."

Jackie led him to the liquor cabinet, and he unlocked it with his modified bobby pins. Wine and harder liquor, like Scotch, occupied the shelves. If Jackie's parents drank like his, then he and Jackie had more in common than he thought. A lush was a lush, no matter the price of the booze.

He stashed the Cognac, Campari, and tequila in the cabinet. He relocked it, and his makeshift tools broke. Bobby pins could take only so much punishment.

"Enjoy your love," Jackie said to Forman and Donna, "but do not _make _love on my parents' bed. That's gross."

Hyde nodded at Forman. "You bring rubbers with you?"

"Yeah. They're in my—damn it. They're in my bag out there."

"You brought condoms?" Donna said.

"My mom taught me to be careful."

Jackie raised her eyebrows. "And optimistic."

"We're not using those this weekend," Donna said. .

"Why not?" Forman said and cleared his throat. "I mean ... we're not?"

Donna sat up against the bed's pillows. "Hyde, would you and Jackie please give Eric and me some privacy?"

"Gladly," Jackie said with a dismissive wave.

She and Hyde returned to the main room. Fez should've been snoring on the floor, but his clothes were where his body used to be.

"Fez?" Hyde said and spotted him by the front door. He was naked except for his underwear.

"I have to make a snow angel!" Fez said. "I can't wait for you any longer!"

He flung open the door and dashed outside. Snow and cold air swept into the cabin. Jackie rushed after him and shouted, "Do not go more then twenty feet from the cabin! I want to keep an eye on you from the window!"

"Shut the door, man," Hyde said. The cabin was turning into an ice box. "Fez ain't goin' far."

She did as he said, and he got a can of Old Milwaukee from his duffel, along with the latest copy of _Mad Magazine_. He planned on snagging the cabin's leather armchair for the weekend, but he gave the main room a visual inspection first. Two doors were to his left. One had to be the bathroom. The other, though, was likely a closet.

"Hey." He gestured toward the bedroom with his beer. "If your parents sleep in there, where do you sleep?"

"In the other bedroom." Jackie strode past the bedroom to a wide bookcase. She moved it in a surprising show of strength, revealing another door.

"Secret room?"

"I keep a lot of things that are special to me in there," she said. "If thieves ever broke into the cabin, I'd die if they stole them. Plus, Michael probably would've broken them." She removed a key from her jeans pocket and unlocked the door. "Come inside?"

His skin prickled under his coat and cardigan sweater. First she'd put her hand on his thigh. Now she was inviting him inside her secret bedroom, but he still had to play this cautiously. His mind was bruised from three weeks of self-examination. Selfishness drove him more than he'd ever realized, and he didn't trust his judgment anymore.

Jackie went into her bedroom, but he put only one foot inside. The room was small in comparison to the master bedroom. A bunk bed took up one wall. A narrow bookcase held novels, trophies, and framed photos of Jackie and others. A thirteen-inch TV was on a desk opposite the bunk bed.

He drummed his fingers against the door frame. "Cozy."

"I usually invite a friend to my family ski trips," she said. "The bunk bed isn't the most comfortable, but it's convenient."

She climbed the bed's ladder and plucked a teddy bear from the top bunk. She climbed down, indicated she wanted to leave, and Hyde backed off from the room. She locked the door and dragged the bookcase in front of it again.

Several minutes later, a warm fire was crackling in the fireplace. Hyde and Jackie's coats hung on hooks by the window, and Hyde draped his legs over the side of the armchair. His shades and boots were off. He was finally comfortable, drinking beer and reading _Mad._

Nazareth's _Hair of the Dog _played from the cabin's record player. Not the worst choice Jackie could've made. Not the best, either, but it was better than ABBA. She dropped onto the couch and lifted her legs onto the cushions. She leaned against the armrest closest to him, cuddling her teddy bear and staring out into space.

Paying attention to her was the opposite of relaxing. He refocused on _Mad Magazine, _but halfway through the song "Miss Misery" she said, "I feel awful."

"Yup, life sucks," he said, but _Mad's _parody of _The Bad News Bears _was actually amusing, and he chuckled.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He was trying not to. "You cheated on Kelso, and Kelso cheated on you. What do you want me to do about it?"

"I cheated on him with you."

"So?"

"Don't you even care why?"

"Asked you the day before Christmas Eve, man. You deflected. Case closed."

He sipped his beer to emphasize his point, but she kept on talking. "Michael was my first boyfriend, but our relationship didn't go the way I imagined. He kept annoying me … and disappointing me. So I yelled at him and insulted him and kicked him, and I started to hate how I acted when I was with him. Do you know what that feels like, hating yourself?"

His breath thickened. He knew exactly what that felt like.

"Anyway," she continued, "I saw you and Donna together at the top of that empty pool—you know, the one you guys used for the keg party—and you two were talking. I couldn't hear what you said, but you looked like good friends. And I thought that's how Michael and I should be. But we weren't. … I'm not like that with anyone."

Her voice dissolved into sobs, and his last swallow of beer hurt his throat. The night wasn't going his way, but he planted his socked feet on the floor. His magazine fell next to his butt, and he leaned forward in the armchair, facing her.

"You danced with Donna so sweetly at the disco," she said through her tears, "while Michael was off showboating. And even though Fez is an amazing dancer, he's too into me. Like, he wants me not for _me _but for himself. Am I making any sense?"

"Too fucking much." That was exactly how he'd approached Donna, why he'd let her go.

"What you did for Donna and Eric, respecting their love, you're a really good friend."

He laced his fingers between his knees and cracked his knuckles. "I'm a selfish asshole."

"_Michael _is a selfish asshole."

He smiled at her curse. He hadn't expected that kind of language from her, but he dug it.

She blotted her tear-stained cheeks with her sweater sleeve. "When Michael bought me those hot rollers, I thought, 'Finally! He's becoming the boyfriend I always hoped he could be.'" She spread her arms apart, as if she were giving up a fight. "But here I am, three weeks later."

"Could be worse," he said. "Kelso could be here, too."

It was partly a joke, but she didn't laugh. "Is there anything else he did behind my back? Because I want to know it all, every lousy, no-good deed that dog did. So I can thank God I broke up with him before he truly broke my heart."

Hyde scratched his cheek. "Look, I'm no rat, but ending that shit was the right thing to do."

Her eyes widened, and she clutched her teddy bear to her chest. "Because he did do more!"

"Didn't say that."

"But he was going to."

"Didn't say that, either. But if he could do what he did with Pam Macy..."

She loosened her grip on the teddy bear. "Right."

"And if you could do what you did with me..." he said.

"Right." She cried again, quietly, and caressed the bear's fuzzy ears. "I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess."

He tapped his feet on the floor. "Hey, I went willingly."

"I just wanted to stop feeling so disgusting."

"And you chose me to do to that with?"

She sniffled, looking everywhere but at him. "I'll admit that you have a certain … rough appeal on the outside. But I bet you're a lot nicer on the inside than you let on."

He sat up straight and laughed. "Nice? I'm not nice."

"You're a nice kisser."

"No, I'm a nice dancer. I'm a great kisser."

She giggled softly. It was a pleasant change from her crying, but her nose dripped snot. He searched the room for tissues. Lots of useless, probably pricey, knickknacks took up every corner. But no damn Kleenex.

"Hold on a sec." He found the bathroom. It was behind a door across from the secret bedroom. Rolls of toilet paper crowded the cabinet under the sink, and he swiped one. "Use this," he said and tossed her the roll.

Her tears seemed to have dried up. She also seemed talked-out, and he returned to the armchair. _Mad _continued to be funny, but she said, "I want to kiss you again."

"Of course you do." He flipped to the next page of the magazine, but its cartoons were blurry. His eyes had unfocused. He flipped to another page, but his breaths grew shallow. Her signals were real. They hadn't been figments of his imagination. "But I'm not gonna be your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Who said anything about dating?" Her face was red, from crying or embarrassment, but her nose was clean.

Possibilities hummed through his body. Her presence had become bearable now that she was a free agent. She hated what Kelso had brought out in her, and maybe that was why Hyde didn't like her either.

But jumping to conclusions was premature. He hadn't spent all that much time with her yet, the Kelso-less version. Her snobby condescension was all her own, but he said, "You just wanna fool around, right?"

"That's all. It's better than feeling sorry for myself."

"Then let me change that record."

"What's wrong with Nazareth?"

"'Love Hurts' is a boner-killer, and it's stuck in my freakin' head."

"Well..." She shrugged a shoulder. "It _is_ kind of mopey."

Her response was as good as permission. He bolted to the record player and shut it off. A case of albums stood by the side table. It contained a mix of disco, pop, and oldies. Elvis Presley's _Elvis for Everyone!_ was the only record that came close to rock. Its first song, though, was a cover of Hank Williams's "Your Cheatin' Heart."

"What's taking you so long?" she said.

"Your albums are crap."

"They're mostly my parents'. Just put on 'Come Fly with Me'."

"Sinatra?" He yanked the album out of the case. Its jacket had an illustration of Sinatra at an airstrip, but ... "Why the hell not?"

Sinatra's voice accompanied him to the couch. It didn't rev him up, but Jackie pressed her palms into his cheeks and drew him in for a kiss. She was clearly ready to go, but he needed time to adjust. This was still Jackie, and his mind rebelled a little. But as the sensation of her mouth strengthened against his, lightning arced between his ribs and jolted his heartbeat into overdrive.


	5. Like an Avalanche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER FIVE**  
LIKE AN AVALANCHE**

Jackie typically disliked making out while lying on her back, but Hyde was practically weightless on her. Michael would've crushed her into the couch. He had on more than one occasion, causing her to establish a Michael-on-the-bottom policy. Hyde, though, supported himself. His right foot was on the area rug. His left knee sat on a pillow between her legs, at a respectable distance from her privates.

Best of all, his arms rested on either side of her head, and his fingers twined in her hair. It was a an intimacy Michael never engaged in, and they were supposed to be in love.

What she and Hyde had was casual. It wouldn't last. They were like those free-love hippies at Woodstock, only not slathered in mud, but her heart pumped faster the longer she and Hyde kissed. Her body craved more of him, like it couldn't get enough.

But she should've brought her record collection to the cabin. Sinatra was serenading them from the record player. Normally, she enjoyed his voice, but the low energy of "Moonlight in Vermont" chafed against her adrenaline, and she tapped Hyde's arm.

"What's up?" he said. .

"Sit up a little."

He pushed himself onto his butt, and she grew cold without his body so close. The snapping flames in the fireplace were no replacement for him.

"You done?" he said.

She grasped his right hand and placed it on her breast, above her sweater. Her heart had to be pounding against his palm.

He arched an eyebrow. "You inviting me to second base?"

"Over my clothes," she said and moved his left hand to her other breast. If he rejected going further, she'd lock herself in her bedroom until next winter. Maybe by then, her embarrassment would die.

"You got a couple layers on," he said.

"So do you. Is that a problem?"

A grin lit his face. "Not for me."

She pressed her lips together and exhaled through her nose. He was a total turn-on.

Her eyes closed as he began to caress her. Pleasure reached past her sweater and shirt, and she gripped the cushion beneath her. His strokes were the opposite of clumsy. They were gentle and stimulating, and what his hands might feel like without barriers … the prospect was overwhelming.

She and Michael had gone far, but it mostly left her numb. And that disappointment made her go further with him, in an attempt to discover the secret knowledge only romance authors seemed to have.

But she was discovering it now.

She breathed out vocally as Hyde touched her. She'd meant to stay silent, to keep Donna and Eric from rushing out of the master bedroom, but Hyde's hands retreated from her body.

Her eyes popped open with wet lashes. He'd completely backed off from her, standing off the couch. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry!"

"_You're _sorry? I'm the one who fucked up."

"But you didn't! I loved what you were doing."

"Then why're you crying?"

"I'm not..." She touched her fingers to her cheeks. "Okay, I am. But I never felt that before."

"Felt what?"

"That good!"

"Shit..." He sat on the couch again. "And this is over your freakin' clothes. You've been missing out."

She propped herself on her elbows. "You're telling me! Hyde, you are … could I ..." Blood rushed to her face. She ached to caress his stomach, his chest, under his clothes. "Kiss me again, okay?"

He moved back over her, and his lips pushed into her smile, renewing that sense of secret knowledge. She brushed her fingers through his curls. His hair was softer than it appeared, just like Hyde himself.

She brought his hand to her stomach, forcing him to adjust his position. She guided his fingertips beneath the hems of her sweater and shirt. The sensation of his skin on hers was exhilarating—and frightening, hinting at how much further they could go.

"Hyde," she said when he paused for a breath, "do that thing again."

"What thing?"

She pulled his hand to her breast, on top of her clothes.

He chuckled softly, but his laughter seemed affectionate, and his touch was as perfect as before. It felt amazing and somewhat unreal, like she was living in one of her fantasies. But he was listening to her, proof that boys who took direction existed.

"All right, so..." he said after a while, "this is startin' to get frustrating."

"You don't like doing this with me?"

"Think we should call it quits before we get too heavy is all."

She sat up, and his hands fell from her body. "I told you I don't want to date. This is just for fun..." She glanced down at the area rug. "But you're not having fun."

"I see this heading into dangerous territory, man. You got a room with a bed no one here knows about. Forman's got rubbers Donna won't let him use. We've got three nights here, including tonight." He patted the top of her thigh. "You're vulnerable right now—and movin' fast."

She looked at him, at his naked blue eyes. "You care."

"I don't want you to ask me to fuck you."

Her breath staggered in her lungs, but she recovered and hit his chest. "Hyde!"

"You're a virgin, okay? I'm not. Haven't been for a long time. I know what I'm doin' … and I see how you're reacting to it. "

"Oh, my God." She sprang off the couch and darted to the armchair. His _Mad Magazine _was on the cushion, and she slapped it to the floor.

"Making out is entry-level stuff," he said. "But you don't want your first time to be with me."

She shoved herself onto the chair and pulled her legs beneath her. The urge to hide her face behind her knees was strong, but she whispered, "You're crazy! Michael and I have done basically everything but sex. I'm fine doing more than kiss you, but that doesn't mean I want to make love with you!"

He put up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay!"

"And I'll have you know that I'm not some amateur." She bounded off the chair and stood tall. She had no reason to make herself smaller or feel small. "Just because Michael was a terrible lover doesn't mean I am."

Hyde stared at her like she'd spoken nonsense.

"Fine, _pre_-lover if you want to get technical." She gestured between them. "If you don't like how I kiss, tell me already. If you're pitying me and doing me a favor, then forget it!"

"Jackie, would you calm down a sec?" He rose from the couch but kept his distance. "Kissing you is cool, man. It's cool. Doing more … I got no problem with it as long as you don't."

She flinched. "You don't? I'm cool?"

"No, _I'm _cool—" he stepped in close to her—"and _kissing _you is cool. You're hot."

"You think I'm hot?"

He cleared his throat. "Hot enough that I could shed a layer or two."

She pulled his cardigan sweater off his shoulders. "Like that?"

"Like that."

She unfastened the first button of his red shirt. "And this one?"

He unbuttoned the rest of the shirt himself, revealing his white undershirt. He'd really dressed for the cold, but his arms were damp with sweat. Four brown scabs ran from his left elbow to his wrist, and she asked about them.

"Got itchy and scratched myself with a rake," he said. "Not the smartest idea I ever had."

She didn't believe him, but she removed her own sweater, leaving just her red shirt. "We color coordinated without knowing it," she said.

"If we took off one more layer, we'd really match."

"We'd be half-naked."

He grinned suggestively, and she laughed. "This is color-coordinated enough," she said and tugged him to the couch.

* * *

Jackie had pulled up Hyde's undershirt. She was stroking his stomach, but her touch registered lower. She was definitely no amateur, and she asked him to go beneath her own shirt. He obliged, but unlike every chick he fantasized about, Jackie's breasts were small. Didn't matter. They got him going just the same.

His thoughts, though, remained chaotic. He and Jackie barely knew each other. He still had feelings for Donna, but what he and Jackie were doing had more intimacy than a casual fling.

Maybe because they'd both fallen for the wrong person. They were in similarly shitty places, only he hadn't betrayed—or been betrayed—like Jackie.

Too much thinking. He'd gone on this trip to get a mental break, and he kissed Jackie's neck. She seemed to like it, but when he reached the skin behind her earlobe, she shouted, "Oh! More—there!"

That was the loudest she'd been since they began. He sucked lightly at the sensitive area he'd discovered, and her hips pushed against his and fell into a subtle rhythm. He controlled himself, not joining in. Dry-fucking her was out of bounds ... for now. What they were doing was enough. It gave him some relief and her, too, from the way she sounded. Her breaths came out heavy, and his weren't much lighter.

"What in the devil's name is going on?"

Forman's voice crashed into Hyde like an avalanche. He'd been caught with Jackie—again—but he made no sudden moves. He sat up from Jackie with an ease he didn't feel. Jackie remained on her back, but she gripped the hem of his undershirt, as if trying not to be entombed by snow.

"Forman, you gotta read the latest _Mad._" He pointed to the magazine on the floor. "That's what's goin' on. _Spy versus Spy,_ man. They kill me!"

"No, with her!" Forman gestured at Jackie. "Donna and I have been subjected to Nazareth and Sinatra while we had a 'serious' talk, thanks to your little question about condoms—and, apparently, while you and Jackie continued with this abomination!"

"Not my fault you made assumptions Donna didn't," Hyde said, more gruffly than he'd intended. He was hard from what Forman had interrupted, and it might hurt soon.

"Don't change the subject."

"That _is _the subject!" Jackie said and released Hyde's shirt. "And we aren't doing anything. Go back to Donna so we can finish it."

Hyde suppressed a smirk. She was scrappy, a description she'd kick him for, but he was beginning to dig her personality.

That couldn't be a healthy development. .

"Okay, look," Forman said and shut off the record player, "where's Fez?"

"Fez?" Hyde relaxed into the couch, but Jackie tensed beside him. "After he killed that bottle of Amaretto, he ran outside, saying he had to make a snow angel. But he was in his underwear."

Donna came out of the bedroom, and Hyde met her wide-eyed gaze. "Don't tell me you two are messing around again," she said.

"All right," Jackie said, "we won't tell you."

Donna crossed her arms over her chest. "What happened to this being a 'stupid, one-time thing'? What about Kelso?"

"You mean the guy who cheated on Jackie in front of the whole school?" Hyde said.

"No, I mean _our friend. _You can't do this to him. Eric and I kept your first _blech _a secret, but I don't think I can hide the fact you two are in a relationship."

"We are not in a relationship!" Jackie said.

Hyde stretched his arm over the top of the couch, hiding his scabs behind Jackie's hair "We're not in anything, man. We're just … cool."

"Yes." Jackie swiped her hand through the air. "Cool."

"Whatever you want to call it," Donna said, "it's _not _cool. You cheated on Kelso first, Jackie."

"So? He cheated on me _without knowing_ I cheated on him. And I dumped him, so we're both free to do whatever we want with whoever we want."

Forman snatched his coat from a hook by the window. "This whole trip has gone straight to hell. I'm going to get Fez."

An icy wind blew inside the cabin as he left. Flames shivered in the fireplace, and goose bumps formed on Hyde's skin. His arms were exposed, but the door slammed shut. The fire calmed, and so did his skin.

Donna sat in the armchair. Her glare hadn't left him or Jackie, and Hyde grabbed his sweater from the floor. He covered his lap with it, but his erection was dying.

"Jackie," Donna said, "wouldn't it feel worse if Kelso had kissed, I don't know, your friend Sharon instead of Pam Macy?"

"Sharon's barely a friend," Jackie said. "She's been laughing at me ever since Michael cheated."

"Then with me." Donna clawed at the air with one hand and shuddered. "Not that it would happen, but if Kelso cheated on you with me."

"Yes, it would hurt worse … but we're not friends, and I really have no reason to come by the basement anymore, do I?" Jackie pushed herself off the couch. "So you can stop worrying about any of this."

She ran into her parents' bedroom, and Hyde blew out a deep breath. "Nice goin', man."

"Don't be a jerk." Donna clutched her knees. "Just tell me why you're fooling around with her."

"Why do you think?"

Her mouth opened slightly. Her brain must have done the math, and she covered her eyes, as if she had a headache. "Hyde..."

"I gotta get over you somehow."

"But with Jackie?"

"We're in the same damn boat. We both freakin' love someone who didn't work out for us." He put on his sweater. Donna hadn't spotted the scabs Edna gave him—she would've called him out about them otherwise, worrying, demanding he do what he couldn't to protect himself, like tell the cops—and he aimed to keep it that way. "Kelso's a cheating dillhole, so I don't give a shit I'm messing around with his ex."

"You really don't care? Not even a little?"

"They dated five months, man, not five years. If the sitch were reversed, if Kelso messed around with my ex, you think he'd give a flying fuck about me?"

She massaged her temples and sighed. "No."

"If you wanna spill the beans to Kelso, go ahead, but the kid's only gonna get hurt over nothin'." His hard-on was gone, but he needed to take a piss. He went toward the bathroom but stopped short of entering. "Or he'll try to hurt Jackie and me, still over nothin', 'cause of his pride or ego."

She didn't seem convinced, and he tapped his lips with two fingers. "But if you zip it," he said, "he'll have fun with any chick who'll let him. Me and Jackie'll stay cool, and someday I'll quit vomiting every damn time I see you and Forman together."

"You don't actually throw up, do you?" she said, but he shut himself in the bathroom. Finding relief for his physical aches was easy. The emotional ones, that kind of hurt took longer to die.

* * *

Jackie and Hyde had all their layers on again, including shoes and boots. She'd come out of the bedroom after another cry. Misery was creeping inside her, but Hyde being here helped. He was sitting the antique console table. Her parents would sue him for that, but they'd never find out. She envied how free he seemed, not bound by convention or what was expected of him.

She was also attracted to it, his rebelliousness, and she climbed onto the armchair's wide armrest. Her parents might sue her for disrespecting their furniture, too, but Hyde nodded his approval.

Donna, though, sat far away from them on the couch, like Jackie and Hyde carried a contagious disease. Her judgment stung. It probably hurt Hyde worse, but Donna claimed she wouldn't squeal to Michael.

Jackie didn't care either way.

She and Hyde had fun tonight. That was all. She and Donna weren't friends. She had no one to count on at school anymore and rarely at home, and pressure built behind her eyes. She thought she'd cried herself out, but she was wrong. She blotted her tears with her sleeve

"Jackie—" Hyde said, but the ski cabin filled with cold. Someone must have opened the front door, and she glanced over her shoulder. Michael stepped inside, carrying an unconscious and mostly-naked Fez. Her heart iced over. Michael couldn't be here. He shouldn't be here, but he dropped Fez onto the couch beside Donna.

Jackie hopped off the armrest. "Michael?"

"Jackie!" He spread his arms wide, as if he expected a warm embrace.

She ran toward him and slapped his face hard.

"Ow! What kind of greeting is that?" He rubbed his reddening cheek. " I hitchhiked all the way here in a snowstorm just to be with you!"

"Do you think I'm stupid, Michael?" She put her hands on her hips, to stop herself from slapping him again. "You're here to hang out with your friends, not to be with me. Because you just _had _to have your way, even though I dumped you." Her face felt hotter than the fireplace, and a snarling smile cut across it. "Well, guess what: you're not allowed to stay here."

She shoved and jabbed him toward the front door. Eric was standing there, but she said, "Out of the way! Michael's leaving."

"Jackie, you can't kick him out." Eric shut the door and blocked it like a bouncer. "It's freezing out there."

"Speaking of," Donna said from the couch, "would one of you guys dress Fez and wrap him in a couple of blankets?"

"I'll do it!" Michael said and dodged Jackie's next shove.

"No, you'll get out," she said. "I'm not spending the weekend with you, cheater!"

"Then _you _can get out!"

"It's my ski cabin!"

"But I risked my life to get here!"

"So what?" she said, and Hyde entered her eyeline. He opened the closet and yanked a few blankets from it. Eric gathered Fez's clothes, brought them to the couch, and Jackie jabbed Michael's chest. "Just go already!"

"No!" Michael dashed past her to Eric's side. Together, they tried to put Fez's pants on him. He was upside-down, legs draped over the back of the couch. That should've made the task easy, but neither Michael or Eric seemed to know where to start.

"Dry him off first!" Donna said. "He's all wet."

Hyde dumped the blankets on the armchair and got a towel from the bathroom. He and Eric righted Fez, dried him off, and began to dress him—without Michael's help. He'd gone back to Jackie.

"You're really not gonna forgive me?" he said.

"Would you forgive me if I cheated on you?"

"Of course not, but you'd never cheat on me. And you're the girl, so you have to forgive me." His hands moved as if kneading invisible dough. "Guys sometimes need to spread their love around while their girlfriends keep the home fires burning." He looked at the fireplace. "Hey, let's get that fire raging! That'll warm Fez up."

"Oh, Michael … you're an idiot." Jackie snapped her fingers at Donna and Eric, and they glanced up at her. "I'm sorry, but I can't sleep in the same room as him. You'll have to sleep out here."

She removed her suitcase from the pile of luggage by the couch. She carried it into her parents' bedroom, and her vision became blurry. A few minutes with Michael had transformed her into that ugly, yelling beast she despised. He might have ruined her social life, but he wouldn't destroy her … or this weekend.

After wiping her eyes dry, she pulled two bobby pins from her hair. She hid them in her fist and returned to the main room. Fez was lying sideways on the couch and covered in blankets. A pillow was under his head, and he snored with every unconscious breath.

"We'll have to take shifts watching him," Hyde said. "If he pukes, we gotta make sure he doesn't choke on it."

"Eric and I will take the first watch," Donna said.

"Then I'll take the second." Hyde strode from the couch to the dining area. The kitchen was just beyond it. "Time to make some grub."

Eric patted Michael's shoulder. "You'll have to take the third, buddy."

"You really trust Michael to keep anyone from dying?" Jackie said. "I'll take the third watch."

She approached Hyde in the kitchen. Tonight would totally suck, but tomorrow didn't have to, and she slipped her two bobby pins into his hand.

* * *

Hyde dropped Jackie's bobby pins into his pocket. She'd given him an invitation to the bedroom, to her bed. He might just take her up on that, but for now they had to stay apart.

"Forman, bring me the spaghetti and tomato sauce, would ya?" he said after she left him, and he put a large pot of water on the stove.

Forman arrived shortly with the ingredients for their dinner. "That Jackie, huh?" he said quietly. "Fez could've died out in that snow. It's at least two-feet high by now,, and she was ready to toss Kelso into it."

"Yup, that Jackie..." Hyde poured dried pasta into the pot. When Kelso first showed up here, Hyde thought that was it. Jackie would leap into Kelso's arms and smother him in kisses, but she'd slapped him instead. That would've made Hyde happy any day, but today it was especially sweet.


	6. Worthy of a Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER SIX**  
WORTHY OF A MOVIE**

Jackie was looking through _Cosmo Magazine _in Eric's basement—with _Donna. _A week ago, Jackie wouldn't have believed it, but that trip to her ski cabin had changed her life. Michael alternated between insulting her and begging forgiveness. Everyone grew sick of it, and Donna led a revolt against him.

It was a scene worthy of a movie.

Their last night in Alpine Valley, after a long day on the slopes, Fez roasted marshmallows in the fireplace. Donna and Eric cuddled in Hyde's double-sleeping bag, which he'd generously lent them. He truly was nicer than he let on, and he read comic books in the armchair. Jackie sat near him on the couch, reading _Nancy Drew, _but caught his gaze occasionally. They shared secret smiles, and she felt less alone than she had in months.

Yet she wasn't as alone as she'd hoped to be. Michael should've lain on the floor like the dog he was, but he inched closer to her on the couch. "Jackie," he said and snaked his arm around her shoulders, "we've got the best opportunity in the world here, and we're wasting it! No parents and an empty bedroom. I mean, two virgins who make up by doing it? There's no better love story than that."

His fingers reached toward her breast, and she hit them with her book. "No, Michael! I'm not going to make love with you. I'm never making love with you. You're lucky I didn't make you sleep outside in the snow this weekend!"

He jumped off the couch. "Oh, yeah? Well, no one here likes you anyway!" He glanced around the main room. "Am I right, guys? Come on, back me up!"

"Actually," Donna said, "I'm liking Jackie a whole lot more than I like you right now."

Eric exhaled loudly. "I'll probably hate myself in the morning for saying this, but I agree."

"You don't deserve her, you son of a bitch!" Fez said and scowled at Michael. "If Jackie will lose her virginity, it will be to a man she trusts and treats her with respect." He popped a blackened marshmallow into his mouth and chewed. "Ai! That's hot."

Jackie's heart raced. She'd avoided confrontation with Michael the past few days. Had stayed her super-cute self instead of the raging creature he brought out. "Fez is right," she said, confounded that the boy she once found so appealing had become so ugly. "I don't trust you, and you don't respect me."

Michael sliced his hand toward her in a frantic gesture. "I'm trying to respect you, Jackie, but you won't let me!"

"By groping her then and burning her when she tells you to back the hell off?" Hyde said.

"What else am I supposed to do? She's my girlfriend, and she won't fool around with me!"

"Girlfriend?" Donna tore the sleeping bag off herself and ran at Michael. Her hands jabbed his chest before he could dodge them. "She's not your girlfriend, Kelso! You cheated on her, and she doesn't owe you anything."

Hyde pointed at Jackie with his rolled-up comic book. "Even if she was still your chick, she wouldn't owe you shit. If she's not in the mood, she's not in the mood. End of story."

"Fine!" Michael said. "Then she can't come to the basement anymore."

"Sure she can." Donna grabbed Michael's ears and twisted them. "And when she's there, you're going to leave her alone. Do you understand me?"

He winced as his legs buckled, but she strengthened the twist and repeated, "Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"Ow! Okay, yeah! I'll leave her alone."

She released him and patted his shoulder. "Good."

Jackie grinned at her then, and she was grinning at her now in Eric's the basement. Donna hadn't called them friends yet, but she acted more like one each day. Agreeing to read _Cosmo _was a big step.

"Oh, my God," Donna said and tapped the magazine page. "'Hair Dos and Don'ts of Olympic Gold Medalists'."

"Is that Dorothy Hamill? She's a virgin!"

"Speaking of, you know all those girls at school who do it, like, all the time?"

"Yeah," Jackie said, expecting to hear a juicy rumor. Gossiping was another step in their growing, undeclared friendship.

"All right, is it just me, or do they seem more ... relaxed?"

Jackie pressed her lips together. Before starting a a physical relationship with Hyde, she thought she was broken. Being with Michael had been the opposite of relaxing, in a bad way, but he was the broken one. Not her.

"Are you okay?" Donna said. "Your face is all flushed."

"I'm just thinking how to answer," but a simple yes or no wouldn't do it. The truth was complicated, but the basement's back door opened. Hyde entered first, followed by Fez and Eric, and Donna tossed the magazine onto the spool table.

"Hi!" Donna and Jackie said together.

Eric stood by the couch and unzipped his winter jacket. "Hey, what were you guys doing?"

"They were talking about sex," Fez said.

"Come on, Fez," Hyde said. "Chicks don't talk about sex, man!" He sat in the least comfortable chair in the Formans' house, propped his feet on the cushioned footstool, and smiled impishly at Jackie. "It's dirty."

His response was ridiculous, especially considering what they did together. "Yes, we do!" she said. "And we're better at talking about it than guys are."

"Oh, yeah? How so?"

"For one, we don't lie about what we've done or who we've done it with."

He arched an eyebrow, a silent challenge. Donna coughed, and Jackie's cheeks grew hot. She hadn't told anyone about her and Hyde's… _coolness. _She'd only been caught. Twice. By Donna and Eric.

"What I mean is," Jackie went on, "we don't say we did it with people we didn't. Like how Michael told all of you we had done it when we never did. It's not a competition with girls."

"Tell that to my sister." Eric climbed onto the couch's armrest and sat. "I know more about her … _proclivities_ than a brother ever should."

"Your sister is in a sex contest?" Fez said from the lawn chair. "Can anyone join? Because I volunteer to help her win."

Donna crossed her arms over her chest, like she felt too exposed. "All right, you know what? Before you guys got here, Jackie and I were actually having a pretty good time."

Eric exchanged skeptical glances with Fez and Hyde, but Donna laughed. "I know," she said. "I was surprised, too!"

Sparks flickered in Jackie's stomach. Donna liked spending time with her. The girls in Jackie's social group at school—the word _friends_ no longer applied to them—still taunted her about Michael, presenting their scorn as concern:

_"Oh, that must be so painful for you to see your ex with the school slut."_

_"It's a good thing you dumped him before he gave you crabs." _

All kinds of disgusting, degrading comments came out of their mouths. But she sat with them at lunch anyway. No one else was offering her a place.

Not that she'd sit at Donna's cafeteria table if invited. Michael was there, and Pam Macy kept making "guest appearances". That didn't mean, however, Jackie couldn't offer an invitation of her own.

"Hey, Donna," she said, "you wanna go to my house?"

"You know what? Okay."

The sparks in Jackie's stomach burst into fireworks. She grabbed the_ Cosmo _off the spool table, and she and Donna rushed out of the basement.

* * *

Hyde shoved his hands into the pockets of his flannel jacket. Forman's basement was cold, but Hyde's move was strategic. He adjusted the jacket so it concealed his crotch. Simply seeing Jackie nowadays was giving him hard-ons. He liked being with her a little too much, to the point where just hanging out had become nice, too.

He had no clue what to do about it. Or what it meant, if anything. But at least she'd kept quiet about their … _coolness in _front of Kelso and Fez. Since the ski trip, they'd managed to fool around without getting caught by the wrong person.

"What do you guys wanna do?" he said. Forman and Fez needed to distract him. Memories of Jackie's naked body had risen in his skull, and his dick was rising, too. He pinched his stomach through his jacket, but the pain wasn't enough to short-circuit his erection.

"We could walk to The Hub," Forman said. He remained on the couch's armrest, despite that Jackie and Donna had vacated. Fez, though, took Jackie's spot on the couch.

"Too far.," Hyde said.

"We could walk to—"

"Too far!"

"Man, this sucks!" Forman said. "I just can't believe that Red took away my car because of one stupid little scratch!"

Hyde stared at him incredulously. "I know, man! Who would think Red would overreact?"

"I did," Fez said. "I have noticed Red is a real hardass. One toe over the line, sweet Jesus, you are clobbered! You know what I'm saying?"

Hyde did. He'd been yelled at by Red plenty the last eleven years, but Forman said that was code for, "I love you." Hyde doubted Red loved him, but he did care. Otherwise, Hyde would've starved a long time ago. Sometimes his ma left food in the fridge before leaving for days. Sometimes she didn't.

"I can't be stuck here on a Friday night," Forman said, but the basement's back door slammed into the wall, and Kelso dashed inside.

"Hey, guys." Kelso held up a key. "Check it out!"

"Did you get a car?" Hyde said.

"My cousin Sully loaned me his wheels. So where to?"

Anywhere Hyde could quit thinking about Jackie. "How about Fatso Burger?"

"No way," Kelso said. "Jackie's dad owns that place."

Hyde cringed. Jackie had corrupted his subconscious.

* * *

Donna hugged one of Jackie's daisy pillows to her stomach, an act Jackie would've stopped anyone else from doing. But Donna's comfort in Jackie's room was a thrill. Except for her time with Hyde, this was the happiest Jackie had been in weeks.

She and Donna sat on the bed, facing each other. _Cosmo Magazine _was open on Jackie's lap. They'd just read an article about the five most pleasurable sexual positions, as described by a sex therapist, and Jackie earmarked the page.

"Okay, this is gonna sound like a weird question," Donna said, "but did you ever look at Kelso's … you know?"

"Of course! Why?"

"Because whenever Eric and I get to that part of fooling around, I can't look at it."

Jackie patted Donna's knee. "That's understandable."

"It is?" Donna brushed her hand through her hair and laughed. "Thank God. I thought I was being a total goon by jerking him off with my eyes closed."

"You are, but who wants to look at Eric's penis?" A chill crawled up Jackie's spine. "Touching it has to be even worse. Ew!"

"Jackie!"

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding." She patted Donna's knee again, but some of Hyde's sarcasm must've rubbed off on her. "Eric's a really nice guy, and I'm glad you two are together."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Jackie pretended to skim an article in _Cosmo. _She was glad about Eric and Donna's relationship for more than one reason. If Donna had returned Hyde's romantic feelings, Jackie never would've learned how wonderful he could be. She might have even taken Michael back.

"And, maybe," she said, "try opening your eyes when you jerk him off. It's hot watching your man get hard and big because of you—"

"Stop!" Donna said, red-faced. "I do not need that image of Kelso."

"I wasn't talking about Michael."

"That's even worse! Hyde's like a brother to me."

"But he doesn't feel that way about you. I think he really fell in love..." Jackie's fingers clawed at the magazine and accidentally tore a page. "He seems a little less mopey about it, though."

"And you're okay with Hyde using you to get over me?"

"He's not using me. We're helping each other." Jackie pressed her palm against her heart. "Michael made me fall out of love with myself. I had to stop falling in love with him before I hated myself completely—and Hyde helped me do that. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I think so..."

"Good because I'm starting to love myself again." She rested her arms on her lap. "And someday Hyde will love someone else the way he loves you."

Donna squeezed the petals of Jackie's daisy pillow, but she stopped when Jackie couldn't hide her horror. "This totally sucks," Donna said. "I never wanted to hurt Hyde, but I don't feel that way about him."

"He's okay, Donna. The other day when we went to see _Silver Streak, _he laughed so much! I don't think I've ever heard him laugh like that."

"Wait, did Fez go with you?"

"No."

"I know Eric didn't, and you wouldn't go with Kelso..." Donna cupped her mouth, but a smile peeked through her fingers. "You and Hyde went on a date!"

Jackie shook her head, maybe too forcefully because it ached afterward. "We did not. We both wanted to see the movie, and we were both horny, so it was convenient. He came over here afterward, and we … had a good time."

Donna's brow furrowed. "How good?"

"Let's just say his mouth is very talented."

"Did he go lower than your face?"

Jackie began to sweat. The memory was playing out in her mind. Sitting on her bed, where it had happened, made her wish he were here now instead of Donna. "Much lower. You need to ask Eric to do that because it will give you visions."

"Visions of what—never mind. We're not even girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Not labeling your relationship doesn't change what it is. You two are dating exclusively, and you obviously love each other."

Donna hid her face behind the daisy pillow, but Jackie pushed it back down.

"And Eric wants to please you, right?" Jackie said. "So he'll keep trying until he does—unlike Michael, who quit when I gave him any direction. He's such a selfish baby!"

"And Hyde?"

Jackie closed the the magazine on her lap, and her thumb caressed the cover. "I think he'd be an amazing lover. He told me he doesn't want to be my first, but I think I could change his mind. I used to have my first time all planned out, but now … honestly?"

Her eyes stung a little, but she wouldn't lose control in front of Donna. This conversation had gone beyond girl talk. They'd approached sacred ground. Jackie needed to stay focused, not dissolve into a pile of emotion. "Steven is so sweet," she said. "He's also a bit of a jerk; but, like, I think he'd protect me with his life."

"That's him, all right," Donna said. "Behind his dillhole exterior, he's a good guy. His friends are basically everything to him—and you just called him Steven."

Jackie's breath froze in her chest. "No, I didn't."

"You did."

"I did?"

"Yeah!"

Jackie was breathing properly again, but blood heated her cheeks. "Well, anyway, if he ever agreed to make love with me, I bet it would be magical." She waved her hand through the air. "_Truly_ magical. I wouldn't need all the romantic stuff I used to imagine with Michael, like candles or a giant banner proclaiming our love."

"No giant banner?" Donna said.

"I know! Ste—_Hyde _is naturally romantic in this strange, rough way. It's just how he is, without even trying." Jackie leaned back on her ruffled pillows and gazed at the ceiling. Tears were coming, but she kept on talking. "I know it wouldn't mean much to him since he's had a lot of sex. But it would be really, really special to me. Because he'd do everything he could to make it special … which is a lot more than I can say for Michael."

She blinked, clearing her blurry vision. Her understanding of Michael wasn't new, but her revelation about Steven scraped against her skin. Her arms became itchy under her shirt, and she scratched over her sleeves.

"Wow, don't kill me for saying this," Donna said, "but you kind of sound like you're falling for him"

"I'm not in love with anyone," Jackie said and left her sleeves alone. "I'm just grateful I don't have to be lonely right now. I have no boyfriend. My clique at school is full of backbiting bitches. My parents are always busy with work or social functions." She rolled up the _Cosmo Magazine _and struck it against her knee. "Being with Hyde makes me feel like someone in this world cares."

"Well, I care about you."

"You do?"

Donna lowered her head. Her hair hid her face, but she she jerked her head back up and looked Jackie in the eye. "Okay ... when you were with Kelso, you annoyed me so much. Like, _so _much. But now you're just mildly annoying."

Her shoulders hiked to her ears. She seemed embarrassed, and Jackie gripped the rolled-up magazine hard. Waiting for Donna to speak again was like smelling deviled eggs through a locked door. She couldn't reach what she wanted. It had to be brought out to her.

When Donna finally did speak, she talked slower, as if choosing each word after rejecting three others: "Despite that I haven't exactly been the nicest person to you … you've pretty much always showed you care about me. So, yeah. I'm glad we became friends."

Warmth spread through Jackie's body, eradicating the itchiness in her skin. "We're friends?"

"I'm sitting on your bed and talking about sex. I wouldn't do that with just anyone. The subject makes me uneasy."

"I'm honored!" Jackie felt like crying again, but she had no tears left. Today was one of the best days ever, and she pointed at Donna's denim shirt. "Now let's talk about de-lumberjacking your wardrobe—"

"Shut up." Donna tossed the daisy pillow at her but was smiling. "Let's go over that sex-positions article again. Maybe I should take notes for the future."

Jackie giggled and opened _Cosmo _to her earmarked page. This was true friendship. It had to be, and if Donna invited Jackie to her cafeteria table, Jackie would accept. Even if it meant dealing with Michael and the girl he'd cheated on her with.


	7. Somewhere to Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER SEVEN**  
SOMEWHERE TO TURN**

The ride in Sully's '68 Chevy Nova was smooth, even with Kelso driving. Hyde had called shotgun, leaving Forman and Fez in the back. Fez was fine, but Forman wouldn't quit griping about the radio station. Hyde hadn't witnessed this side of him much, but Forman was clearly used to having control in a car. Maybe because the Vista Cruiser was the only place he felt like he had any authority.

Hyde could relate. He'd had no say in his dad running off or his ma's drinking, and his future prospects were lousy. But if Forman complained one more time about the music, Hyde would toss his Coke at him.

They'd ended up at Fatso Burger's drive-thru, after all. Kelso had driven there on automatic, as if he had Jackie on the brain as much as Hyde did. But the fast-food joint's burgers were decent. They made for a better dinner than Edna would've made.

"Oh, great," Forman said, and the paper of his burger crinkled. "No pickles. Now we gotta go back."

"Shut up!" Hyde, Kelso, and Fez said together. Apparently, Hyde wasn't the only one fed up with Forman's moaning, but Forman continued to talk.

"Hey, why does Sully have a statue of the Virgin Mary on his dashboard?"

"I don't know," Kelso said. "Maybe he's, like, religious or something."

Kelsos weren't religious, though. At least the younger ones didn't give a crap about heaven or hell, and Kelso's cousin had never showed himself to be an exception.

"Wasn't Sully in prison for arson?" Hyde said..

"People that burn stuff believe in God too, Hyde," Kelso said, and the hairs on Hyde's nape stood on end.

He scanned the dashboard for other inconsistencies and found one in the ignition. "Why does his key chain say, 'I love Bingo'?"

"Sully must love Bingo," Fez said.

"All right, I'm starting to think that maybe this isn't Sully's car," Forman said.

So was Hyde. From what Kelso had shared over the years, Sully reminded Hyde of his own cousins. And that meant trouble.

"Then whose car is it?" Kelso said, and a police siren blared at them from behind.

Hyde ate a huge bite of burger and stuffed four French fries into his mouth. He wouldn't be finishing dinner tonight.

* * *

The police station's interrogation room resembled Forman's basement: gray-brick walls, a concrete floor. It was just missing a TV—and freedom.

Four chairs, with no distance between them, had been provided for Hyde and his friends to sit on. Kelso had tried to move his apart from the others, but the cop who brought them shouted, "Leave that alone!" and Kelso sat like a good boy.

The lack of personal space sucked. Hyde's shoulders pressed against Kelso's and Forman's, but being here at all sucked worse. Over the years, one parent would drag him to the police station when the other had been arrested. Usually for being drunk and disorderly.

He should've been used to the place. He'd been arrested himself once, too. For shoplifting when he was twelve, but this brick-walled confinement jangled his nerves. Prison was likely his future place of residence unless … he couldn't think of what might change his road, and he pushed his boots against the concrete floor.

"This is great," Forman said. "I'm dead. You know, when we were in my car and I was running the show, I don't remember one single time we all got arrested."

"That's true." Hyde had expected to be arrested again before he turned eighteen but not because of Kelso.

"Will you just relax?" Kelso said. "We're all in trouble here!"

Forman pointed a finger at him. "Oh, no, no, no. We're not all in trouble here! Your parents have seven kids. They won't even notice you're gone." He pointed at Fez next. "Your parents don't even live in this country!" He pointed at Hyde. "And your mom's probably one cell over."

Hyde's fingers were laced together over his lap, and he was too lazy to unlace them. That was lucky for Forman, or else Hyde would've pounded his arm purple. His comment was fucked-up. He knew how many times Hyde had bailed Edna out.

"So that just leaves me," Forman went on. "I'm the only one who's really in trouble here."

Hyde squeezed his fingers together until his knuckles turned white. "Look Forman, I'll be in as much trouble as you are as soon as Edna sobers up." Red might yell at Forman for an hour, but Edna would beat Hyde's ass for this arrest then kick him out of the house.

"I will be deported," Fez said and gazed down at the floor. "They're going to send me back to my homeland, the beautiful island of—"

Their only escape hatch opened—the door—and a cop entered the interrogation room. Hyde considered bolting past him and taking his chances, but the cop was tall and trained, and half a dozen like him were outside.

"Okay," the cop said, "who's the ring leader here?"

Hyde indicated Forman. So did Kelso and Fez, and the three of them said together, "He is!" Hyde wouldn't have sold Forman out, but he was the best talker out of all of them. He also had the most stable family and had pissed Hyde off.

The cop dropped a dime into Forman's hand. "You get one phone call."

"To anywhere?" Fez said.

"One local phone call," the cop said. He left and shut the door behind him.

Hyde inhaled deeply, but air refused to saturate his lungs. His future had already begun. "So who should we call?" he said hoarsely.

"I'd call Red," Forman said, "but I feel safer in jail."

"I don't know my phone number," Fez said.

Hyde crossed his arms over his chest. "Can't call Edna, man. It's poker night." Disrupting her fun always earned him a new scar, either on his body or in his mind. Getting out of this situation would take a damn miracle. The Fuzz loved to bust teenagers' heads, even when they were innocent.

"No offense," Kelso said, laughing, "but isn't every night poker night for Edna?"

Hyde uncrossed his arms and slammed his fist into Kelso's shoulder. Adding assault to the grand theft auto charge was worth it. Everyone in town knew about his ma's sex life. It served as gossip for bored housewives, but it was hell for him. A revolving door of assholes.

"No, no, no, I got it!" Kelso rubbed his shoulder but otherwise appeared unfazed by Hyde's punch. "I'll call Jackie!"

Forman reached across Hyde with the dime, but Hyde intercepted it and said, "Why Jackie?"

"Her dad's a lawyer," Kelso said. "Oh, and she's got a checkbook."

Hyde clutched the dime in his fist. "I'll call her."

"Why would you call her?" Kelso said and followed him to the payphone against the wall. "You don't even know her phone number."

"Yeah, I do. Trust me, man. We'll have a better chance of gettin' out of here if I call her."

"But Jackie and I have history."

"A shitty one."

"Kelso, just sit down," Forman said.

Kelso turned toward him. "But Jackie hates Hyde! She used to complain about him all the time when we were together, saying he'd end up in prison or should be forcibly bathed and given a haircut."

Hyde's jaw clenched, but he used to talk crap about Jackie, too. He put the dime into the payphone and dialed Jackie's number. Her folks paid for her own phone line. It had worked in Hyde's favor so far, and he hoped it would again.

* * *

Jackie's phone rang. She was stomach-side down on her bed, reading the rest of her _Cosmo Magazine. _Donna had just gone home, so she wouldn't be calling. The girls in her social group kept their ridicule in school, but they'd been known to prank people.

Jackie picked up the phone, praying none of her former friends would be on the line. "Hello?"

"It's Hyde. Don't talk."

She swallowed her words. Maybe he was in Eric's basement with Michael, and he didn't want Michael to hear her voice on the phone.

"Kelso drove me, Forman, and Fez in a stolen car," Hyde said, "and we got arrested. We might need a lawyer or bail. Sorry to put this on you, man—"

"Don't be sorry!" she said and slapped her duvet cover. "This is Michael's fault. Where did he get the car from? Did he steal it himself?"

"His cousin Sully."

Her stomach dropped. The two times she'd met Michael's cousin, the slimebag hit on her and tried to loot her purse. "Tell me it wasn't a Chevy Nova."

"That's exactly what it is."

"Michael, that idiot!" She sat up on her bed. Of course Michael hadn't recognized his own grandmother's car. "I can take care of this. I'll be at the police station in twenty minutes."

"Thanks. We'll pay you back."

"I know you will." But Steven couldn't, and didn't have to, pay her back with money. He was poor with no job, but he could repay her another way if he wanted to.

* * *

Hyde hung up the payphone, and the air in the interrogation room seemed less heavy. "She's coming," he said and retook his seat between Kelso and Forman.

"Could you please use different language?" Forman said.

"Grow up, Forman. She's gonna bail us out."

Kelso smirked. "Oh, yeah. She still loves me."

Hyde rammed his fist into Kelso's shoulder again, and Kelso cried out in pain. Hyde's first punch must have bruised him. The second clearly hurt worse, and Hyde forced his grin into a grimace.

"She doesn't love you," Fez said and placed both hands at the center of his chest, "but someday she'll love me."

"Hey, take that back!" Kelso shouted.

"But you cheated on her and are trying to give your virginity to Pam Macy!"

"But she hasn't taken it yet! So me and Jackie still have a chance."

Hyde closed his fist for a third punch but didn't follow through. Kelso and Jackie had a chance only in Kelso's dreams—and Jackie's nightmares. She was getting over him, so she'd told Hyde. Not the pain but the love.

It was the the opposite for Hyde. Loving Donna hurt less. Because the kind of love he felt for her was changing.

* * *

No cops had entered the interrogation room since Hyde's call to Jackie. He kept glancing at his wrist, but his watch had been confiscated. So had Forman's, and no clock hung on the wall. They'd been deprived of any sense of time. It was probably a cop trick, meant to break them down, to extract a confession. But Hyde rarely confessed to what he was guilty of. No way he'd confess to a crime he didn't commit.

"Where's Jackie, huh?" Forman said to him. "She told you she'd be here in twenty minutes. Twice that must've passed by now!" Or half that, but Hyde wasn't going to argue.

"I guess I was wrong," Kelso said and sounded like he was about to cry. "She doesn't love me anymore."

"That is the first smart thing I have ever heard you say," Fez said.

Kelso sniffled. "Thanks, buddy."

Hyde crossed his arms over his chest again, to hold in the mixture of emotion roiling in his guts. Pacing the room might've helped, but his friends couldn't see him act like a caged animal. He tried to hide that part of himself, the internal chaos.

Jackie might've lied to him, not just on the phone but in general. Maybe she hated him like Kelso said, and their last month together had been a hot, elaborate scheme.

If that were true, though, then he didn't understand anyone. Because during the last week, she'd behaved like she cared about him. _Really_ cared. Without him saying shit, she'd intuitively known what he needed; whether it was talking, not talking, goofing around, fooling around.

She hadn't earned her driver's license yet. She could've gotten hurt on her way here. That was more likely than a conspiracy to destroy his already fucked-up life.

"Eric," Kelso said, "you gotta do something, man!"

"Me? What about you or Hyde?"

Hyde rose from his chair. "Fine, but if we get life sentences, don't blame me."

Letting him talk to the cops had to be a bad a idea, but every second made him edgier about Jackie. If she'd landed in the hospital because of him, or worse, he'd lose whatever sanity was left in his skull.

He knocked on the thick door. It opened, revealing the cop who'd given them the dime. He was broad enough to block Hyde's view of the hallway outside, and Hyde said, "Man_—officer_ ... man, I've gotta talk to you."

The cop stepped backward, allowing Hyde to leave the interrogation room. The cop's name tag said _Rost. _He nodded at the door, and Hyde closed it.

"Ready to confess?" Officer Rost said.

Hyde stayed motionless, despite the cop's smugness. His ma goaded him constantly, and he never fought back physically except in defense. That same control didn't fail him now either, and he said, "Is Jackie Burkhart here? She was supposed to be fifteen minutes ago. Five minutes ago … some freakin' time ago."

"She a short brunette chatterbox?"

Hyde's lips twitched into a smile. "That's her."

"She's talking with Officer Henry. And talking … and talking."

"Too bad about that First Amendment, huh?"

"Funny," Officer Rost said. "But you know what isn't? You stole a car."

"So my friend's cousin lends us his car, and we get busted for grand theft auto? What the hell kind of justice is that?"

"Yeah, haven't heard that before. 'It wasn't my fault.' 'I borrowed it from a friend—'"

Another cop, the aforementioned Officer Henry according to the name tag, approached them. He was carrying several manilla envelopes.

"Hey, guess what," Officer Rost said to him. "They didn't really steal the car. They 'borrowed' it from a friend's cousin."

"Oh, actually they did," Officer Henry said. " Turns out Michael Kelso's cousin Sully borrowed it from their grandmother, and she forgot and called it in stolen. Nice old lady, though. She plays bingo!"

The tension in Hyde's body began to dissipate. "So the charges were dropped?"

"That's right. Which one are you?"

"Hyde."

"Steven Hyde?" Officer Henry passed him one of the manilla envelopes. "Oh, God, is that girl out there sweet on you. You better thank her. She's the one who told me what happened. I followed up, called the grandma, and now you're free to go."

"Cool," Hyde said and fought the urge to blow a raspberry at Officer Rost.

Officer Henry handed him the other manilla envelopes. "Give these to your friends, would you?"

Hyde went into the interrogation room. The door slammed behind him, and Forman said, "So?

Hyde dropped the manilla envelops onto his empty chair. "Jackie saved our asses."

"What?" Kelso jumped to his feet. "We're free?"

"All charges dropped, man.

Forman, Kelso, and Fez ambushed him, wrapping their arms around his waist and shoulders. It was a damn group hug, and Hyde said, "Save it for Jackie!"

They let him go. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Crap."

He banged on the door, and Eric, Kelso, Fez joined him. "Let us out!" they shouted. "Let us out!"

* * *

Jackie tapped her foot by the reception desk. She'd been waiting in the police station what seemed like hours, but Michael emerged from the hallway and swallowed her in his arms. She couldn't see if Steven or the others were free, too, and Michael said, "I knew you still loved me!"

"Michael, get off!"

Other arms joined his, other voices. The belonged to Eric and Fez, who repeated, "Thank you! Thank you!"

She could barely breathe but managed to shout, "Help! Police!"

Kelso, Eric, and Fez released her. She shook off the feeling of being squished, especially by Michael, and spotted Steven. He was standing back, by the hallway.

"Michael," she said, "I don't love you anymore. I came here for Steven, Eric, and Fez. I would've let you rot in there, but the officer said all of you had to go free."

Michael pounded his chest. "Well, I don't love you either! And if you're ever in jail, don't expect me to bail you out."

She brushed her hair off her neck and held in a derisive laugh, but Steven charged forward and smashed his fist into Michael's shoulder.

"Officer, I've been assaulted!" Michael shouted and clutched his shoulder. "I want to charge him with assault!"

Eric shoved Michael forward, toward the police station's double doors. "Let's just go."

Michael didn't fight, and Jackie followed him and Eric to the parking lot. Fez and Steven were close behind, and an officer parked Sully's car nearby. She gave Michael the keys before returning to the station.

"Well, fellas," Michael said, "where to next?"

Fez put up his hands. "Oh, no. I'm not driving anywhere with you in that vehicle of doom. I'm walking."

"Yeah, me, too," Eric said.

"Jackie, how'd you get here?" Steven said, and Jackie's pulse quickened. This was the first he'd spoken to her since their phone call.

"The bus. I would've driven Daddy's Lincoln, but I only have a learner's permit. Driving it to the police station without a licensed driver didn't seem like a good idea."

"I can drive you home," Michael said.

Jackie glared at him. "I don't think so."

"I'll walk you to the bus stop," Steven said.

"You will?" Jackie said. So did Michael, and she glared at him a second time.

Steven stepped close to her and offered his arm. His gesture was a public declaration. She wasn't sure of what, exactly, but her pulse throbbed with all kinds of excitement. She looped her arms around his, and Michael shrieked as she and Steven strolled from the parking lot.

* * *

"Have you been arrested before?" Jackie said. She was sitting with Steven on the bus. She'd invited him to her house. He accepted and, once the bus arrived, thanked her for keeping that arrest off his record.

"Sneaked vodka from a liquor store when I was twelve," he said. "For my ma. Bein' nabbed by the cops was better than what she would've done."

"Why?"

"Alcohol-deprived Edna isn't the same as sober Edna. Hell, I don't even remember what sober Edna is like."

A dozen follow-up questions bubbled up her throat, but she swallowed them down. He hadn't shared much about his homelife, and acting too nosy might keep it that way.

They were safe in her living room fifteen minutes later, on her couch, and sipping hot cocoa. Steven had prepared it for them. Her parents wouldn't be home for a half-hour, and she rubbed his arm. "Steven, you are so brave! It must have been scary sitting in that interrogation room."

"Can't say it was a party, but you're calling me _Steven _now?"

She touched her lips. She hadn't meant to use his first name. "You don't like it?"

"I don't know."

"I can stop."

"Maybe you should..." He drank the rest of his cocoa and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "And I was thinkin' maybe _we_ should stop."

Her breath stalled in her throat. "W-why?"

"We've been goin' kind of far—_fast, _you know?"

"So?"

"It's been a cool week and all," he said, "but you want someone who buys into the corporate romance machine. Someone you can fall for, and this—" he gestured between them—"is just gonna hold you back."

She stared at her mug of cocoa. "So you're sick of me."

"I didn't say that."

"Maybe I could fall for you." Her gaze shot to his face. "Did you ever think of that?"

"People don't fall for rebounds, man."

She sighed, but it came out like a grunt. "I like you, Steven. I like myself when I'm with you. That's all I know right now."

His eyes flicked away from her, but she continued. "I'm not saying I'm in love with you or ever will be. But I've been happier the last week with you than I ever was with Michael. And I'm not ready to just let this—" she gestured between them—"go. Unless that's what you want. Unless I'm really nothing but a distraction for you."

He scrubbed his hand over his face. "Come on, Jackie. It's only been a week since you dumped Kelso."

"And a month since you accepted Donna loves Eric. If you can honestly tell me you hate being with me—"

"That's the thing. I don't hate it, but I don't know where the hell it can go."

She put her mug on the coffee table and grasped both his palms, partly so he wouldn't scratch up his neck. For as little time as they'd spent together, but she already recognized some of his habits.

"We don't have to know," she said. "Let's just follow it. With Michael, I had our whole lives planned out: when we'd make love the first time, when we'd get married, how many kids we would have." A lump formed in her throat. "But cheating on him and him cheating on me—well, it made me realize that planning a relationship is stupid."

She stood from the couch and pulled Steven up with her. "Life doesn't obey any king or queen," she said, but her voice was raspy. She cleared her throat, and the lump weakened. Her dulcet tone mostly returned. "I can't boss a doofus into a diligent, and you can't force someone to fall in love you. All we can do is decide if we like what we have today. Tomorrow the answer could be different, but so what?"

She cradled his cheeks and kissed him. He kissed her back. His lips were coated in cocoa, and they tasted good. They felt just as good against her mouth, and when she parted from him, he was grinning. "Yeah," he said, "I liked that."

"See? So did I."

"But actions have consequences, man. What if we do somethin' today we both regret tomorrow?"

"Then we'll deal with it tomorrow."

She drew him into a deeper kiss. His hand slid down the small of her back, stopping short of her butt, but she wished he hadn't. "I want you to be my first," she said quietly.

"Let's wait on that."

"You'd actually..." She was smiling, so hard it hurt her cheeks. He hadn't said no. "I mean, would you be okay with doing it?"

"Sex is just sex for me, man. I enjoy it. I do what I can so the chick enjoys it, too." He tapped his heart with his index finger. "But it's never meant shit. Think you deserve better than that."

"I just want to have a good experience. That's all." She cupped his elbows by her waist. "It doesn't have to mean we're getting engaged."

"It might if I knock you up."

"But you use condoms!"

"True enough." He shrugged one shoulder. He was infuriatingly cute, but instead of kissing him again, she let him continue talking. "They can always break, though."

"Then use two."

He laughed, and it warmed her insides. "Doesn't work that way," he said. "But if we keep havin' fun like this—let's say, a month or two from now—and you still want to fuck, I wouldn't be opposed."

She winced at his language. It was crude but also a cold, necessary reminder. Despite hanging out together nine days straight, she had a lot to learn about him. His favorite drink was cherry cola, but maybe he despised the color pink. He was loyal to his friends, but one mistake might break that loyalty. She needed to spend more time with him, to find out if his tenderness went deeper than his touch, but … "A month or _two_?" she said. "I'd have to wait that long?"

"You're the one who said let's follow this—" he gestured between them—"whatever it is."

"Okay, but are we exclusive?" She leaned her hip against the couch armrest. "Or are you going to have sex with other girls in the meantime? Have you been with other girls besides me this week?"

She froze. She was talking as if he were her boyfriend. "Never mind," she said. "Never mind." .

"Haven't been with anyone but you." He edged closer to her and grasped her waist. "If it looks like that's gonna change, I'll let you know, and you can make your choices."

If he was trying to reassure her, it worked. She patted his chest. "And I'll do the same for you."

"Cool."

She checked her watch, and her pulse tightened. "My parents are gonna be back from the A& P in five minutes."

"Yeah, I'll split."

Jackie walked him to the front door. She opened it, but he turned around and hugged her. "Thanks for gettin' me outta there," he said.

"Of—of course." His embrace startled her. He'd already thanked her on the bus, but she closed her arms around him. "You shouldn't go to prison because Michael's whole family is stupid."

He hugged her tighter, and it seemed emotional. Even intimate. "Not for that. Out of the dead end. My shit with Donna."

"Oh." She rubbed his back. "But your feelings aren't shit. They're just feelings in a shitty situation. How I felt about myself when I was with Michael, _that_ was shit."

He chuckled and loosened his embrace. He was acting so strangely, and she said, "Why are you laughing?"

"You said _shit _a bunch of times."

She giggled into his shoulder. He needed to get over her cursing. "Where am I, third grade?"

"Might just be."

He let her go, and she watched as he jogged across her gravel driveway. So much of him was a mystery, but those were her favorite books to read.


	8. No One's Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER EIGHT**  
NO ONE'S VALENTINE**

February in Wisconsin was slightly warmer than January, according to the weather reports. Hyde couldn't tell the difference, though, and he was glad to get inside Forman's basement. It kept out of the cold well enough, except when Red chose to be stingy with the heat. Fez and Kelso seemed to warm up fast once the door shut behind them, but Hyde shivered with the winter in his skin.

He planned to thaw while watching the tube, but Donna had Forman pinned to the floor, in front of the couch. They weren't making out, but they could've been, and Hyde's stomach tensed. Seven weeks had passed since he'd killed his romantic pursuit of her. Losing out on Donna didn't bug him anymore, but being with a girl would've been nice. Not in a bus-stop fling, like him and Jackie, but an on-going road.

"Hey, _Gilligan_ is on!" Fez said and pointed at the TV. He glanced down at Donna and Forman. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"They're using the basement as a motel room," Hyde said.

Donna pushed herself off Forman and climbed onto the couch. He tried to sit next to her, but Kelso dropped between them.

"It's _my _basement, Hyde," Forman said. "Not _the _basement. If I want to use it like a motel room, I will … the next time some oblivious idiot isn't sitting next to me."

"Isn't it your parents' basement?" Fez said.

Hyde sat in his uncomfortable chair and closed his corduroy jacket around himself. It was missing too many buttons to stay closed on its own. He was still cold, but he chuckled. "Forman, you owe your folks some cash. Tell 'em you heard from a friend how good the floor is for screwing."

"We weren't—we're not even—he's not even my boyfriend!" Donna's face flushed and she jumped up from the couch. "I'm going home. Bye."

She bolted out of the basement. Freezing air blew into it, and Forman shouted, "I'll walk you home!"

"She lives right next door, man," Kelso said.

"Yeah..." Forman smacked the back of Kelso's head as he chased after Donna.

The basement's back door clicked closed. Forman and Donna were gone, and Hyde continued to laugh. The whole scene was more entertaining than _Gilligan's Island, _but embarrassing Donna hadn't been his intent. If his friends had found happiness together, they could have it.

But their relationship wasn't official yet. Whatever they were waiting for, it was probably some stupid teenage etiquette bullshit from the 1950s. Forman had watched too much _Leave It to Beaver _as a kid.

* * *

Jackie's walk to the Formans' was way colder than she'd anticipated. Her outfit had been chosen for optimal cuteness, not warmth. Wearing a winter vest over her sweater seemed fashionable and smart, but she crossed her arms over her chest to retain body heat.

The Formans' driveway appeared lonely under the darkening sky, and she hurried across it. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, one of the holiest days of the year. She'd be spending it alone while girls at school found roses in their lockers and cards full of poetry. Then they'd burn her for being single and the reason for it: Michael had cheated on her with the school tramp.

But he was the tramp, not Pam Macy. She wasn't the cheater.

Jackie reached the basement's exterior staircase. Donna and Eric were at the bottom of it, close together, as if they were about to kiss. Or maybe they were having a serious relationship discussion.

"Hey, guys!" Jackie said and climbed down the stairs. "What's going on?"

"I'll talk to you guys later," Donna said but was gazing at Eric. She touched his arm and rushed up the stairs. Strange. She hadn't been shy talking romance with Jackie for a while.

Jackie strode past Eric and entered the basement. He wouldn't give her the information she wanted, not without the pressure of an audience. Fortunately, Steven and Fez were in their usual chairs. Unfortunately, Michael was on the couch, and she prayed he wouldn't use Valentine's Day against her.

She sat far from him on the couch, flush against the opposite armrest and close to Steven. Michael didn't acknowledge her presence, though. He was too busy watching _Gilligan's Island. _That dumb show always distracted him, but Steven was focused on it, too. He didn't acknowledge her either, but that was part of their strategy. If Michael ever learned about their … _coolness, _he'd plot an endless amount of irrational revenge.

Eric's feet landed on the cushion between Jackie and Michael. He was sitting on the back of the couch, which was convenient. He'd made himself an additional obstacle Michael would have to get through.

"So, Eric," she said, "what were you and Donna talking all hot and heavy about?"

"Your hair," Eric said.

"Really?" She'd started using a new shampoo last week, to help tame winter flyaways. If Eric and Donna cared enough to talk about it, they must've fully accepted her into their group.

"No," he said," and her stomach dropped. "We're going out to dinner tomorrow night for Valentine's Day."

"Oh … oh!" Her disappointment faded. He'd just shared big news with her. That was loads better than him discussing her hair. "Are you finally gonna make your relationship official?" She tapped the top of his shoe. "Because you've been dragging your feet on that, and love can be impatient."

"Did Donna tell you I've been dragging my feet?"

"She didn't have to."

He glared at her. She glared back, and he flinched first. "Yeah. Anyway," he said, "I'm gonna give Donna my class ring." He held up his right hand. A gold and onyx ring, inlaid with Point Place High's insignia, gleamed on his finger.

Jackie pressed her palm against her heart. Giving one's class ring on Valentine's Day was such a romantic gesture.

"No, forget rings!" Michael said. "You wanna score with Donna, use my 'Super Funk' eight track."

"Shut up, man!" Steven had on his sunglasses, but his scowl was obvious. "What the hell do you know? You're still a virgin."

"I am not! Me and Pam have done it a bajillion times since New Year's Eve."

"Interesting," Jackie said. "So that's why you told me a month ago, 'Two virgins who make up by doing it? There's no better love story than that'?"

"I was lying."

"About what?" Steven said. "Being a virgin or not being a virgin?"

Michael patted the armrest, drumming an annoying, repetitive beat. "My answer depends on whether or not Jackie'll be my Valentine."

He must've been waiting for an opportunity like this, and a smile slid across Jackie's face. "My answer is … _die." _

A touch on her shoulder prompted her to turn toward Steven. His hand withdrew from her but not completely. His palm was ceilingward. "Sweet burn," he said.

She slapped his palm in a low-five. His solidarity was reassuring. Without Donna here, Eric might not give Jackie any support, and Fez would just try to hit on her.

"Oh, yeah?" Michael said. "Well, while you're all alone on Valentine's Day like an uggo, me and Pam'll be doing it! You think everyone at school is making fun of you now?" He laughed and sounded like a dying horse. "You'll have to leave town after tomorrow!"

His statement sliced her chest, and hot, invisible blood seeped from the wound. If she'd known Michael was such a hateful, spiteful monster, she never would've fallen for him. His beauty must have made her stupid.

She shrank against the couch as his victory swallowed her whole. She had no means to retaliate, but going home would only strengthen her defeat. She had to stay, to pretend like she wasn't dying while Gilligan bowled with coconuts.

"Actually," Steven said, "Jackie won't be all alone tomorrow. She's got a date."

"With who?" Jackie and Michael said at the same time.

"With me." The answer came from both Steven and Fez, but it yanked her free of Michael's trap. Fez's motive had to be self-serving, but Steven clearly wanted to protect her.

"Yes!" she said and cupped Steven's knee. He covered her hand with his own. He was really selling it, and she fought back tears. "Steven and I are going to have a lovely time at the Vineyard, and Fez will be our chaperone."

"The Vineyard?" Eric said. "No, no, no, no, no. That's where I'm taking Donna."

Steven grinned at him. "That's great, man. Then me, Fez, and Jackie can witness the world-changing event that is your and Donna's relationship."

"Well, this is just … damn!" Eric leapt off the couch and fled up the basement's wooden stairs.

"Since when are you and Jackie dating?" Michael said to Steven.

Steven looked at Jackie like he expected her to fill in the blanks. Or, perhaps, he was afraid to give a version of the truth she wouldn't approve of.

"Does it matter?" Jackie said to Michael. "You and Pam Macy are going 'to do it' tomorrow, and Steven and I will have a wonderful time at the most expensive restaurant in town."

Fez clapped once. "And so will I!"

"And so will Fez," she said. "Who I date and when isn't your business."

"But Hyde?" Michael gestured at Steven so wildly she had to dodge his fingers. "After you got us out of jail, I thought it was weird he walked you to the bus stop. But then I figured he was just burning you for not having a car—oh!" He gasped, as if he were having a major revelation. "You guys are totally messing with me, right? Because Hyde doesn't have a car or the money to take you to the Vineyard."

"I'm borrowing my dad's car _and _paying for the date." She fluffed her hair and sat up straighter. "These are modern times, and I'm a modern woman."

Her temples hurt. She must've been clenching her jaw, but Michael had been her enemy from the start. She simply hadn't realized it until his first real attack: kissing Pam Macy behind the school gym

"Anyway," she went on, "how many dates of ours did I pay when we were going out?"

"Almost all of them," he said, "but you never took me to the Vineyard."

"And Steven never cheated on me." She stood from the couch and stroked Steven's cheek. They were never affectionate with each other in public. In private, she tried to control her urges, but she was slipping more often. "Pick me up at seven," she said.

"Will do."

"So will I," Fez said.

She acknowledged him with a nod and, on her way out of the basement, patted his shoulder. Tomorrow would be expensive but worth it, if only to shut Michael up.

* * *

School was always sickening on Valentine's Day. Red balloons, paper Cupids, and all kinds of decorative hearts choked the hallways, revealing just how brainwashed Hyde's classmates were. They'd bought into the corporate holiday of forced love.

This year, though, he was complicit. For a good cause but still complicit. He'd had to dismantle Kelso's bluster somehow. The dillhole kept ragging on Jackie, who had it bad enough at school because of him. But at least she was springing for the date tonight, and Fez would be there, too, making it less of a date and more a hang-out.

"Steven—Steven!" Jackie dashed toward him with a shopping bag dangling from her arm. Next period wasn't for seven minutes, but other students wandered the hallway—_witnesses._ They'd see how he'd sold out. Maybe laugh about it, but he stopped by his locker and leaned against it.

"Oh, I'm so glad I caught you," Jackie said.

She passed him the shopping bag, and he peeked inside. Pink tissue paper hid whatever she'd bought. He tore the top of it and found a suit jacket, matching pants, a button-down shirt, and even a tie.

"You got me a suit?" he said.

"For our date tonight! I didn't want you wearing a suit jacket with holes in the elbows."

He gave the bag back to her. "I can't take this."

"Of course you can. This suit is very versatile. You can wear it on college and job interviews, too—oh! But I didn't buy you any shoes."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she put up her hand. "That's okay," she said. "I'll go to the mall after school and get you a pair. What size are you?"

"Jackie, you don't have to buy me anything, all right?" He scratched the nape of his neck and glanced around the hallway. People had to be listening. They seemed involved with their lockers, but he lowered his voice just in case. "I'm not your boyfriend, and even if I were—like you said, for six bucks, I don't deserve a chick like you."

"I said you didn't deserve Donna, not me, but I was wrong that day. Money isn't everything—" She paled, like she hadn't expected such anti-classist blasphemy to come out of her. He hadn't, either, but she repeated, "Money _isn't_ everything!"

She stared past him silently, and he looked behind himself. No one was there.

"You okay?" he said.

"Yeah … just … huh." She shook her head, as if waking from a dream. "Money did let me to buy this suit, though, and I want you to have it. Even if you don't wear it tonight."

She passed him the bag again. He took it, opened his locker, and shoved the bag into it. Maybe he could sell the suit for some easy dough. College wasn't in his future, so neither were college interviews. Any job he could get would require jeans and a T-shirt, not an expensive suit.

Jackie began to walk away, but he said, "Hold on a sec." From the top shelf of his locker, he removed a plastic-wrapped rose. He'd bought it at a jacked-up price. Florists knew they could gouge customers on Valentine's Day, but he'd dipped into his pot fund.

"For me?" She pointed at the rose. "You got this for me?"

"Figured it might help keep your 'friends' from flapping their gums at you."

She accepted the rose and sniffed it. "This is really sweet, but they might think I bought it for myself."

"Thought of that, too." He pulled a white envelope from his locker and gave it to her.

Her fingers traced her name on the front of it. "Your handwriting's nice," she said. He'd put her name on the envelope for plausibility, to make this all appear real. "You got me a card? I can't believe it..."

He had. It was the least cheesy one he could find, with a photo of a couple holding hands in a park at night. The inside was blank until he'd written on it.

"'Me and you are cool,'" she said, reading his words aloud. "'I'm liking you more and more. Tonight should be fun.'" She clutched the card to her chest. "You wrote me poetry!"

"A haiku."

"Bless you?"

"No, man. _Haiku. _It's a form of Japanese poetry."

"Well, I love it," she said and hugged him.

He hugged her back. Her embrace felt genuine—and comfortable, despite that people were watching. He really was liking her more and more, but he had no illusions. Their _coolness _was convenient for both of them, and it was sure to end soon. Some football player would get her attention, her affection, and he'd be a free agent again.

* * *

Jackie had changed dresses four times. Cast-offs covered her bed, but she was satisfied with her choice: a purple, knee-length peasant dress. It showed her off shape without announcing it. Her hair was curled, and her makeup complimented both her skin tone and the dress's color palette.

She couldn't help but put effort into her appearance, even though her date with Steven tonight wasn't real, especially with Fez coming along. But being with friends on Valentine's Day was better than being alone.

"Jackie," her mom shouted from downstairs, "your date and chauffeur are here!"

Jackie grabbed her purse and hurried down to the parlor. Her parents had dressed up for the evening, themselves, for their own date in Kenosha. But Steven and Fez were standing close to the front door, like they weren't sure if they were allowed in the house.

Jackie waved them into the foyer, and a thrill rippled through her stomach. Steven had put on the navy-blue suit she'd bought him. His camel-colored boots clashed with it, but his sunglasses were off. His scruffy hair had been brushed into groomed curls, too.

"Hey, wow," he said as she approached him and Fez. "You're … you look beautiful."

Her heart pounded in her throat. "Oh, my God, you're so handsome!"

Blood heated her ears at the loudness of her voice, but unlike Michael Steven had no idea how attractive he was. Then again, perhaps he simply never boasted about it, but he deserved to hear someone compliment him.

"And what about Fez?" Fez turned around, presenting his powder-blue suit.

"Very nice," Jackie said, but her gaze returned to Steven.

Her dad touched her back. "Kitten, would you care to introduce us to your new beau?"

"Oh. Right." Jackie forced herself to focus. "Dad, Mom, this is Steven."

"Steven _what?_" Mom said.

Jackie closed and opened her fists. Her parents were going to judge him for his family. "Steven, um ..."

"Hyde," Steven said. "Ma's the school lunch lady."

Her parents looked at each other, horror obvious on their faces. Jackie's instinct was to stand in front of Steven, but hiding him from sight wouldn't protect either of them.

"My," Mom said to Steven, "but that's such a nice suit you're wearing. Your father must be...?"

"Slumped over a bar stool somewhere, but who knows?" He tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket. "Haven't seen him in years."

Jackie laughed like he was joking. Maybe her parents would also laugh, and she could shove Steven and Fez out the front door safely. But Mom's forehead wrinkled, and Dad adjusted his glasses, as if that would give him more insight into Steven's life. "Then how can you afford a chauffeur?" he said.

"I am not their chauffeur!" Fez said. "I am their chaperone. No hanky-panky will happen as long as I am with them."

Mom's expression relaxed, and Dad offered Fez a slight smile, but their haughty appraisal of her friends soured Jackie's stomach.

She hooked her arm around Steven's. "We don't want to be late for our reservation," she said and plucked the Lincoln's keys from her purse. Her parents would be driving Mom's new car, the '77 Mercury Cougar, to Kenosha.

"Jackie, honey, do be back before midnight," Mom said.

"When will you be home?" Jackie said.

"After midnight." Dad mimed a telephone receiver with his fingers. "But we'll call."

Jackie opened the front door, but _after midnight_ meant she and Steven had plenty of time for "hanky-panky" after dinner.

"Have good time!" Mom said.

"But not too good a time," Dad said. "And use the Visa, not the Master Charge."

Jackie stepped into the night with Steven and Fez, and she closed the front door. Lights lining the gravel driveway glinted off the Lincoln. It was where she'd parked it over an hour ago, but she was more than ready to get out of here.

"I'm so sorry, you guys," she said and gave Steven the keys. "My parents aren't used to..."

"Burnouts and foreigners?" Steven said. He unlocked the driver-side door then the passenger doors.

"Speak for yourself." Fez put his hands on his hips. "Jackie, I think your mother was flirting with me."

Jackie squinted at him. "She was not."

"Your denial is understandable," he said, "but when she divorces your father and marries me, you can call me _Daddy._"

She flung open the Lincoln's rear passenger door. "Get in the car, Fez."

"Yes, kitten."

Fez slid into the car, and she slammed the door on him. He might've yelped, but she felt no sympathy. He'd earned a moment of fright.

Steven gripped the driver-side door handle, but she stopped him from pulling on it. "I really am sorry," she said. "I must have sounded just like them before you and I … you know."

"You sounded worse. It's one of the reasons I found you abrasive."

"Excuse me?"

"'Round Christmas, you called the less fortunate the _unfortunate_ then quit all the pretense and called 'em bums."

"Oh, God, I did." Her legs grew weak under her, but she placed her hands on either side of her head, imitating horse blinders. "Being rich cuts out so much of the world from view. I almost didn't see you." She touched his cheek but only briefly. "If we ever go on another date, a real one, I'll _make _my parents see you."

His gaze fixed on her face, as if he were in deep thought. He'd looked at her that way once or twice the last month, between kisses. "This can be a real date..." he said, "if you want."

"Really?"

"Sure. Your folks are payin' for it, and I'm gonna order the most expensive thing on the menu." He grinned. "So they'll definitely 'see' me when their credit card bill comes in."

She giggled and pecked him on the lips. He was funny, considerate, and cool. All kinds of smart, too, and hot. He wasn't perfect, but his flaws made her feel better, like her own mistakes were just mistakes and not catastrophes. She'd experienced the total opposite with Michael, whose flaws had transformed her into a maniac.

She kissed Steven again, more passionately this time, cupping the back of his head. His arm slid around her waist, but Fez shouted, "Come on, let's hit the road already! My stomach is making scary noises."

He'd opened the Lincoln's passenger door. His face was sticking out of it, frowning.

"All right, man. All right," Steven said. "Don't get your undies in a twist."

Fez shut the door, and Steven helped Jackie into the front passenger seat.

"Such a gentleman!" she said.

"You keep usin' words that don't describe me," he said seconds later, in the driver's seat.

"Start acting like an asshole, and I'll use different words."

He laughed and turned on the ignition. He drove the car off the gravel driveway, and she sat back, reveling in what had happened today—and what might yet come to pass.


	9. Highs and Lows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER NINE**  
HIGHS AND LOWS**

The maitre d' at the Vineyard showed Hyde, Jackie, and Fez to their table. It was a few feet from Forman and Donna's. No other tables stood between them, giving a clear view, but Forman and Donna were too into each other to spot Hyde pulling faces at them.

Jackie tapped Hyde's back and whispered, "Stop it!"

Hyde chuckled. So this was a date with Jackie freakin' Burkhart. Except for her house, the Vineyard was the fanciest, most expensive place he'd ever been to. Reproductions of famous paintings hung on its beige walls. Waiters wore black bow ties, and classical music trilled from speakers in the ceiling. The Vineyard was an alien world, but Hyde had no problem exploring it.

At their table, Jackie passed him a menu. Two-thirds of it seemed written in a foreign language. He searched for familiar words like _chicken _and _steak, _and a busboy brought the table water and a basket of bread. Hyde's instinct was to stuff the rolls into his pockets. With his ma's jaunts out of town, he never knew when he'd have food or not.

"Hi, Eric!" Fez said. He'd put down his menu and waved at Forman and Donna's table. "Hi, Donna!"

Jackie shoved his arm down. "Shh! Don't disturb them. Eric has an important task to accomplish tonight."

Giving Donna his class ring. It was still on Forman's finger, so he hadn't done the deed yet: made their relationship official. But they'd been together since kindergarten. A class ring couldn't change that, only how they treated each other. So far, Forman had been good to her. Being unselfish went a long way, a lesson Hyde had learned too damn late.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter said. He'd come by Hyde's table, and Jackie chose the garlic-rosemary Cornish game hen. Fez ordered duck à l'orange, one of the restaurant's priciest dishes, but Jackie didn't react. Her folks were paying, and she'd probably call it a business expense.

Hyde considered picking the cheapest item off the menu. Despite his earlier bravado, using people for their dough felt dirty. Not good dirty. The kind that wouldn't wash off, but he was hungry, and he ordered the steak au poivre.

"I've always wanted to come here on a date," Jackie said to him. "I've eaten here with my parents a lot but never with a boy I liked."

A strange sensation buzzed through his nerves, like an all-points bulletin was being sent from his brain to every part of his body. It used to happen only around Donna, but his growing feelings for Jackie might not be real. They could just be from _rebound-itis._ Either way, he had to find out.

"And now you are here with me," Fez said to Jackie.

Jackie reached across the table and rubbed the top of Hyde's hand. "And Steven."

"Yes..." Fez placed his hand on top of Jackie's, and Hyde yanked his own free from the pile. "But I don't understand why I have to pretend to be your chaperone. Hyde is the chaperone, right? And I am your date?"

Jackie withdrew her hand from Fez's. "Actually, Steven and I—"

"Find each other disgusting," Fez said. "I know. But I hope you can both put your differences aside tonight so that we can have a nice night."

"We'll try, Fez," Hyde said and scratched his hand. His skin was tingling where Jackie had touched it.

"Great. Now how about a kiss?" Fez leaned toward Jackie with puckered lips.

"If you insist." Jackie stood a bit off her chair. Hyde met her halfway across the table, and their mouths joined in a somewhat sloppy but thorough kiss. It was their first real public display, but one kiss led to another.

"Okay, I see that you are getting along," Fez said. "You can stop. You can stop!"

Jackie sat back down and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Her face was flushed. A few strands of hair were out of place, but Hyde wasn't any better. The hairs on his arms rose under his his dress shirt.

Fez smiled at Jackie, a broad and toothy smile. It was creepy, even for him, and she said, "Why are you grinning like that?"

"Because if you can kiss Hyde, our chaperone who disgusts you, then we're going to do it tonight, aren't we?"

Jackie's fingers brushed against Hyde's knee under the table. Maybe she needed some reassurance, and he grasped her hand.

"Fez," she said, "Steven and I are on a date. You really are our chaperone."

"But how can this be?"

"You got me, man." Hyde gave Jackie's hand a squeeze before letting it go. "But it be."

"Here, chicken, chicken, chicken, chicken!"

Hyde, Jackie, and Fez all looked at Forman and Donna's table. Donna's voice had risen above the restaurant chatter. A mostly-empty drink was wrapped in her fingers, and her arm movements were exaggerated.

"Donna, _shh!"_ Forman said. "Please."

Donna sucked on her straw, and the straw poked her nostril after she released it. "Sorry."

She might've been apologizing to Forman, her nose, or the straw, and Hyde covered his mouth to hold in his laughter. He hadn't expected a show with dinner. She'd gotten plastered.

"Are—are you okay?" Forman said, and a waiter placed plates of food in front of him and Donna.

She stared down at her chicken dish and slapped the table. "I am great!"

Forman shook his head at her. "I think you're drunk!"

"I think I am, too! How could I be drunk?"

"Well," their waiter said, "there's about five shots of alcohol in the Long Island Iced Tea."

Forman gestured to Donna's now-empty glass. "Wait. Long Island Iced Tea?"

"You guys ordered drinks," the waiter said.

Donna raised her glass toward him. "And I'm ready for another one!"

Forman snatched the glass from her and hid it beneath the table. "No, she's good! Thank you. Thanks." His voice cracked. "Thank you, thank you—thanks!"

The waiter left, and Jackie said, "Oh, no. This is horrible!"

"Horrible?" Hyde continued to stifle his laughter. "It's entertaining!"

"Should we go over there and help?" Fez said.

Hyde clasped Fez's shoulder, partly to make him stay put. "Just watch. It's like Valentine's Day TV."

"I love your little butt, Eric!" Donna said loudly. "It's so little!" Her fingers traced a circle in the air, but her expression grew serious. "And you're so good Eric. You're so darn good!"

Forman shifted in his seat, like he wanted to leave but couldn't. "I think it's coffee-time."

"You're so good—" she grasped the edge of the table with one hand and a dinner roll with the other—"it makes me hot!"

He flicked his gaze away from her, as if looking for the waiter. "Or time for another iced tea, maybe."

"Sing to me, Eric!"

"No, I don't sing—"

"Sing me a song!"

"I don't really—"

She slapped the table again. "Do it, or I'll scream!"

Forman began singing "Disco Lady" by Johnnie Taylor. It was a frantic rendition, and Hyde lost control. Laughter surged out of him until his shoulders and stomach hurt.

"Steven, it's not funny!" Jackie said, but she was laughing, too.

"Eric," Fez shouted, "sing, 'Brick House' next!"

Forman silently leaned his forehead into his hand. His performance had disrupted people's meals, but no waiters swarmed to drag him or Donna out of the restaurant.

"God, it's so crowded in here!" Donna said. "Eric, meet me under the table."

She slipped from her chair and disappeared beneath the tablecloth. Still, no one came to check on her or Forman. The Vineyard must've been used to this kind of shenanigans, or it would add an expensive _disruption tax _to Forman's bill.

"What is she doing?" Jackie said. She'd quit laughing, but Hyde hadn't stopped. Forman was so damn precious about dating milestones and social mores. This night would definitely stick in Hyde's memory.

"Donna, no," Forman said and pulled her from under the table. He seated her in the closest chair to him. She tried to get up, but he pressed down on her shoulder and pointed at her. "No, Donna!"

He was treating her like a misbehaving dog, but some drunks were uncontrollable, like Hyde's ma. Edna's chaos meant Hyde had to have extreme control, mostly over himself.

Forman searched the restaurant with his gaze. "Come on, waiter—waiter! Could..."

Every waiter on the floor was busy with other patrons.

"Okay," Forman said to Donna, "I'm gonna go get you some coffee, so no going under the table and no singing. I'll be right back."

He left her and headed for the kitchen doors. She addressed the table behind her, where a couple was eating appetizers. "People," she said, "the chicken here is excellent!"

Jackie heaved out a breath and rose from her chair. "She needs supervision."

Hyde tapped their table with his his fingers, indicating for her to sit. Donna sober could take out Jackie. Donna drunk might slam her into Oshkosh. "I'll take care of this," he said. "Let me know when the food gets here."

He went to Donna's table and sat in Forman's chair. Donna's bleary eyes sharpened a little, and she smacked the arm of the patron behind her. "Hey," she said, "Hyde's here!"

The guy she hit, a middle-aged man with a glazed carrot on his fork, glowered at her. She seemed unaffected by it, though, and returned her attention to Hyde. She rested her elbow on the table, laid her chin on her palm, and smiled at him. "Hi, Hyde!"

"Hey, Donna," he said quietly. "How you feeling?"

"Great! How _you _feeling?" She perked up her head and looked over his shoulder. "Oh! You and Jackie and Fez are on a date?"

"You could say that."

"Jackie really likes you."

"She does, huh?" He kept his voice even. Any change in tone could set Donna off. He'd had enough experience with drunks to know that.

"_Really _likes you." She cupped the side of her mouth and shouted in a theatrically loud whisper, "She wants to do it with you!"

He remained still in his seat, but Forman's Christmas Eve party flashed in his skull, when Jackie was sloshed and revealing secrets she shouldn't.

Donna twirled her finger at him. "Do you wanna do it with her? Because if you do, be nice! She's a virgin, and if you hurt her, I will kick your ass to the moon!" She laid her chin on her hand again and closed her eyes. "I wanna do it with Eric … but if he hurts me, I'll kick _his _ass to the moon."

"Don't think Forman's gonna hurt you," he said. "He might disappoint you the first time 'cause two virgins having sex is just wrong, but—"

She flicked his nose. "Beep!"

Forman needed to take her home ASAP, but the Vineyard's coffee must've been stored in catacombs below the restaurant. No other explanation why he hadn't come back yet. Hyde planned on sitting with Donna until he did, but she waved at someone behind him. "Yay!" she said. "All my friends are on date!"

Hyde turned in his chair. Kelso had passed the maitre d' podium and was making a beeline for Jackie.

* * *

"Michael, what are you doing here?" Jackie said.

"Winning you back!" Michael sat across from her in Steven's vacated chair. "You can't date Hyde."

"I can date whoever I want! Go home!"

"Yes, Kelso. Go home," Fez said. "She can date whoever she wants, and when she is done with Hyde, she will move onto me."

"No, she won't." Michael glanced at Steven, who was drunk-sitting Donna at her table. "We're supposed to be together."

"Pam Macy wouldn't do it with you tonight, huh?" Jackie said.

He grabbed a spoon and fork from the table and clanked them together. "No!"

"Hah! You are so transparent, Michael!"

"Kelso," Donna shouted, "Jackie wants to lose her virginity to Hyde, not you! Hyde says two virgins doing it is wrong!"

"But Hyde's a virgin!" Kelso shouted back.

Waiters and restaurant patrons stared in his direction, but Eric finally returned with a pitcher of coffee. Steven spoke low to him then strode over to Michael.

"Get out of my chair," Steven said.

Michael stayed seated. "Tell Jackie the truth: you've never done it."

Jackie pushed her hand against her racing heart. She always thought a duel over her would be romantic, especially on Valentine's Day. … It wasn't.

The maitre d', a woman dressed in a white-lace blouse, hurried to Jackie's table. "You and your friends over there—" She pointed at Donna and Eric's table, but Donna was on her feet and darting toward the bathroom. "Well, that takes care of one problem," the maitre d' said. "But you're disturbing our other patrons, so I kindly ask that you keep your voices down, or you'll have to leave."

"No problem," Steven said. He sat between Jackie and Kelso and across from Fez, and the the maitre d' rushed back to her podium.

"Jackie," Michael said at a normal volume, "Hyde's never talked about doing it. If he'd had sex, you think he'd keep it to himself? I mean, that one time me and you went skinny dipping and your nips got all hard? I didn't shut up about it for three days straight."

Jackie pressed her hand to her stomach. She tried to scream at him but produced only a squeak. He was a wart that just wouldn't go away.

"Kelso has a point, Hyde," Fez said.

"No, he has a brain disease." Steven took a roll from the bread basket and ripped into it with his teeth. "I don't fuck and tell."

"You're lying!" Michael said. "He's a liar, Jackie! I haven't done it, and I always say I have."

Jackie snatched a roll from the bread basket, too. She was going to shove it in Michael's mouth if he didn't stop talking. "Unlike you," she said, "Steven is a gentleman. _And _unlike you, he knows how to a touch a woman."

Michael gasped at Steven. "You touched her?"

"A lot," she said. "So even if he were a virgin, it doesn't matter. He makes me feel good, and that's all I need."

Michael sputtered, but the waiter came with their food.

"The steak au poivre?" the waiter said. Hyde put up his hand, and the waiter placed the plate in front of him.

"You took my girl—" Michael slid Steven's plate toward himself—"so I get your dinner!"

Jackie crushed her dinner roll beneath the table. Crumbs fell on her shoes, but she said, "Waiter," using her haughtiest tone, "this interloper crashed our date. If you check the Burkhart reservation, you'll see it's for three, not four. Could you please?"

"Yes, miss." The waiter put her and Fez's dishes on the table and addressed Kelso: "If you'd come with me?"

"But I belong here!" Michael jabbed his finger at Steven. "He's the one who doesn't."

"Michael, we've been through for a month!" Jackie said. "I'm sorry—actually, I'm _not _sorry—that no girl will have sex with you, but it's not my problem."

"If you don't leave on your own, we'll have to call the police," the waiter said.

Michael pushed himself from the table. "I'm going, I'm going."

He trudged from the restaurant, shuffling his feet, and Steven reclaimed his chair across from Jackie. "Hey," he said and caressed her heated face. "You all right?"

"I am now that he's gone. Let's just eat and forget he was ever here." She sliced into her Cornish game hen, but Michael had done exactly as she'd expected: gone crazy about her and Steven. Tonight was probably just the beginning of his madness, and she put down her fork. "Our first date is a disaster."

"It's goin' better than Forman and Donna's. She's in the bathroom, puking her guts out."

"And they don't have me as a chaperone," Fez said.

Jackie picked up her fork but only poked at her dinner with it. "Is Michael ever going to leave me alone?"

"Once he gets laid," Steven said.

"I wish I could pay someone to sleep with him."

"You can. It's called a hooker."

"Ew."

The smell of rosemary and garlic woke her appetite. She managed to eat, but as long as Michael was after her, building a relationship with Steven would be impossible.

* * *

Hyde drove Jackie and Fez to the Formans' house after dinner. Jackie never really cheered up after Kelso left, but Hyde had an idea how to change that.

They entered the basement, but Kelso was there, watching TV with Forman. Hyde gestured for Jackie and Fez to stay by the back door. Hyde might need space if Kelso didn't cooperate.

"Kelso," he said and stepped toward the couch, "get outta here."

Kelso clutched the couch's armrest. "You can't kick me out of the basement! There's no waiter here."

"Either I kick you out of the basement, or I kick your ass. Your choice."

"Fine. Did you bring me a doggy bag, at least?"

"No!"

"Fine!"

Kelso bolted for the back door, and Jackie pressed herself against Hyde, as if she were afraid of Kelso touching her. Hyde put his arm around her shoulders. Protecting her was becoming second nature, and he didn't let go until Kelso was outside.

Fez locked the door on him. Hyde gave the move a thumbs-up and dragged the lawn chair close to the spool table. "Why?" Fez said, but Hyde waved at him to be patient.

"So, Forman," Hyde said, "you give Donna your class ring?"

"Well..." Forman began, "after I held her hair while she puked, we went to The Hub, where she sobered up." He grinned and laced his fingers behind his head. "Then, yeah, we made it official. She's my girlfriend."

Jackie sat beside him on the couch. "Congratulations, Eric. I'm glad some of us had a nice Valentine's Day."

"Hey," Hyde said, "the day ain't over yet."

He pulled a joint from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and her eyes widened. "Is that...?"

"Whoa." Forman hiked his thumb at Jackie. "You sure you want the cheerleader to join the circle?"

"She bought me one of the best meals I've ever had," Fez said. "She joins."

"But, Fez—"

Fez slapped the armrests of the lawn chair. "I said she joins! Hyde, light it up."

Hyde removed his suit jacket and sat in his usual, butt-numbing chair. He took his lighter from his pants pocket, sparked up the joint, and sucked in the first drag. The smoke gave him a head rush, and he passed the joint to Jackie.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she said and held the joint away from her face.

"Smoke it."

"I've never smoked anything before."

"You'll cough. Then you won't," he said. "Give it a shot."

She did, inhaling and coughing out a burst of smoke. Her eyes watered, and Forman swiped the joint from her. Hyde hoped the circle brightened her mood. A person's first time with pot didn't always do much.

Her second inhale was better. It would have to be enough. Screwing up her lungs for a high that might not come wasn't worth it. He skipped her from then on, passing the joint to Forman instead.

"The inside of my mouth feels like cotton," Fez said after a while, "as if cotton was in my mouth!"

"Mine doesn't." Jackie patted her stomach. "I'm freaking starving!"

Hyde produced a couple of dinner rolls from his suit jacket. He'd snagged a few on his way out of the Vineyard, preparing for this exact situation.

"You're amazing!" She grasped one of the rolls and bit into it. "When did you lose your virginity?"

Hyde stuck the joint in his mouth but toked too deeply. He coughed and blindly gave the joint to Forman.

"Yeah, Hyde, you sure know a lot about women," Forman said. "But, I mean, you've never really had a steady girlfriend, so ... what's that all about?"

"I'll tell you what that's all about, man." Hyde tried to prop his leg on the footstool but missed. "I was thirteen, and it lasted maybe ten seconds." He tried propping his leg again, and this time his foot landed on the footstool cushion. "But the more you fuck, the better you get. Or the better I got 'cause I listened."

"Michael never listened," Jackie said while chewing the roll, "and I feel sorry for whatever girl he has sex with." She laughed—it was more like a cackle—and bread chunks fell out her mouth. "It's gonna be terrible!"

Every muscle in Hyde's body was relaxed. He moved his hand toward Jackie, but it went slowly. Eventually, it landed on her knee but fell off. He'd intended to rub her leg affectionately. "I'll listen to ya when you're ready to fuck," he said.

Forman looked at him strangely. "Oh, man. Are you two really together?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Jackie said. " I don't have his class ring."

"I don't have a class ring. I just got this ring." Hyde pointed to the eyeball ring on his pinky.

"Hyde, how much masturbation is too much?" Fez said.

Hyde grinned. "No such thing as too much, Fez … and jerking off before sex can help you last longer."

"Steven and I are gonna fuck—" Jackie's face collapsed into sadness—"if Michael doesn't ruin it like our date."

"He won't, man. He won't." Hyde withdrew his leg from the footstool and patted his lap. Seeing her so bummed was killing his high. "C'mere."

She moved from the couch to his lap and draped her arm around his shoulders, as if she'd done it a dozen times.

"Don't make out!" Forman said. "There's no making out in the circle."

"Would you calm down?" Hyde said. "We're not gonna make out. We're just talkin'." He focused his gaze on Jackie. "I like you, and you like me, right? So Kelso can't do shit about it. He's just gotta get laid by Pam Macy or Forman's sister—"

Forman hit the spool table with the flat of his hand. "Hey!"

"And he'll forget all about ya."

"I don't want you to forget me." Jackie leaned her forehead against Hyde's temple. "I want you to fuck me." She giggled and sat up straight. "_Fffffffffuck._ I hate that word, but it sounds so funny. Words that start with _F _are funny..."

Her fingers stroked his hair. The rhythm of it threatened to lull him to sleep until she shouted, "Like _funny! _Fffffffunny—"

"Is my name a joke to you?" Fez glared at her. "My name is not Fffffffez. It's not even _Fez! _It's—"

"Okay, you're cut off." Forman gestured at Fez and Jackie with the joint. "You're both too sensitive to this stuff."

Hyde rested his cheek on Jackie's shoulder. They'd been together a month, but … "_Feelings _starts with _F,_ too," he said. "But we're not gonna fuck—have sex—'til I know we're doin' it for each other."

"What?" Jackie nudged his head off her, and he looked at her tiredly. "What are you saying?"

"You could be fuckin' me 'cause of Kelso. And I could be fuckin' you 'cause of Donna, and that would be lame."

"What the hell, Hyde?" Forman said. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't want her anymore. Still..." Hyde bounced Jackie on his lap, and her grip tightened around his shoulders. "I'm not rushin' into this. 'Cause it might actually mean something."

"Oh, Steven..." Jackie turned into his chest and hugged him. He glided his arms around her back, but her breathing became heavier. She had to be falling asleep.

He locked his fingers around her for stability. "Look, Ffffffforman," he said, "I wasn't happy for you and Donna, but now I am. So are we cool?"

"We've been friends since kindergarten. No girl's gonna come between us!" Forman hadn't let go of the joint, but he wasn't smoking it either. "Even Jackie. She's less annoying now anyway. So if she makes you happy, then I'm happy."

Jackie had grown limp in Hyde's lap, and her arms dangled off his shoulders. She was definitely asleep. "She kinda does," he said.

"Good," Forman said. "Then we're all happy."

Fez glanced down at the spool table. "I'm not."

Forman passed him the joint. Fez took a long pull, and smoke leaked out of his grin. "Now I am."

Hyde leaned back in his chair and strengthened his embrace on Jackie. Her body fit his arms, but she didn't fit his life, despite that his life felt better with her in it.

After eleven years of friendship, Forman and Donna had seen him at his shittiest. His fucked-up moods hadn't scared them off. Jackie, though, had met him only last summer. She'd never been to Hyde's house. Never talked to his ma except in the school cafeteria. He'd been on his best behavior around her lately … mostly. But witnessing what lay at his core might be too much for her.

He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her floral-scented shampoo. He wanted to stick around, but that would be greedy. They'd been cool with each other four weeks. She could get over four weeks—or maybe it was seven. He couldn't remember, but they could get over it.


	10. Inoculation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER TEN**  
INOCULATION**

Jackie had hoped to find Steven in Eric's basement, but bony, swiveling hips greeted her instead. They belonged to Eric, and he seemed wholly captivated by Lou Rawls's "You'll Never Find Another Love Like Mine". The song was playing from the TV, but Eric's dance moves would never get him on _American Bandstand. _

Maybe he was practicing for Junior Prom. It was over a month away, but starting early couldn't hurt. Especially him. He had rhythm but no grace, and she laid her winter coat on his record player. Interrupting him was a bad idea. She'd already committed one transgression—not that she had any idea what it was—but another wrong move might ban her from the basement.

She leaned her shoulder against a sliver of wall, between the light switch and back door. Eric's sweater-covered torso bounced to the music. It was a total turn-off, but she needed his help.

Steven had distanced himself from her since Valentine's Day. Last week, he stopped saying much, offering no real comment on what she told him. This week, though, he'd made every excuse not to hang out with her. Whenever she showed up in the basement, he was never there. Like now, this Saturday afternoon.

Eric twirled in front of the TV with a big smile. His effort was admirable, but that was it. He twirled again, and his smile dissolved into terror as his gaze landed on her. "Jackie!" he shouted. "Door—knock!"

"Sorry. I had no idea you were going to be doing something so..." _embarrassing_, she wanted to say, but that was the old Jackie, the one who called homeless people _bums_. "Classy," she said and gave him a thumbs-up.

"You think—you think my dancing was classy?"

"Oh, absolutely." She walked toward him. "You're trying to become a better dancer for Donna, right?"

"Right." He shut off the TV.

"Well, there's nothing more classy than working hard for the woman you love—and that was clearly hard work."

He glanced down at his feet. "Thanks."

She sat on the couch, but he remained standing. She had to talk fast, before he abandoned her. "Look, Eric, I could really use a friend right now. Donna trusts you … and, God, you are such a nice guy to her! Which means I can trust you, too."

"No, you can't."

"_Yes,_ I can." She patted the cushion beside her. "Please?"

"Okay. All right." He sat down and put his hand on her back, as if to comfort her. "What happened? Did Hyde forget your birthday or something?"

He wasn't taking her seriously. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and flicked her eyes away from him. "I'm pregnant."

"You ..." All color drained from his face.

"I'm kidding," she said. "Just making sure you were paying attention."

Blood rushed back into his cheeks. "Funny. Funny..."

"But do you have any idea what's going on with Steven? He's barely talking to me. Did I do something wrong?" She clutched her knees. "Has he been 'hanging out' with another girl? Because we both promised to tell each other first if we decided to … 'pursue other interests'."

"No. No other girl that I know of."

"Okay." That was one possibility crossed off. "Then has he said anything to you at all about me?"

"Hyde doesn't really talk about himself or what he does."

"Or how he feels."

"That either, but..." Eric pressed his lips together, like he was unsure he should say what he was thinking.

"You _do _know something."

He gripped the back of the couch. "I … _barely _know. It might've been a nightmare. I can't remember, but he's not the happiest guy. I'm sure you've picked up on that by now."

She had, although he'd acted happy with her until two weeks ago.

"And his home life isn't exactly great," Eric continued. "In fact, it's pretty damn frightening. Sometimes when things go bad there, his mind escapes to another place. He snaps out of it after a while, but..." He cupped his jaw and shut his eyes. "Man, he's gonna kill me for telling you all this."

"But you're doing it because you're worried about him, too."

He exhaled, and his body drooped like a dying rose. "You know what?" he said, and his posture straightened. "Come to The Hub with me. I'm supposed to meet all the fellas there in a half-hour."

Jackie raised her eyebrows. "_Fellas? _Are you from _Leave It to Beaver?_"

"The guys. Whatever. Hyde'll be there, and you can ask him what's going on."

"What if he doesn't talk to me?"

"I'll make sure he does."

Hope bloomed in her chest, and she touched his wrist. "You'd do that?"

"Considering you got Hyde to back off from Donna, I figure I owe you one."

"Oh, you owe me more than one..." The amount of love and sex advice she'd given Donna would astound him, but she kept that to herself. Steven was the priority today. Eric could buy her a thank-you bouquet another time.

* * *

Hyde went to the back of The Hub's food-order line with Fez and Kelso. Forman was usually the first one there, but he stepped through the front door a minute late—with Jackie.

Hyde's neck grew stiff. He'd been avoiding her purposely, but she and Forman joined him in the line.

"Hey, Jackie," Kelso said. "Here to beg me to take you back? Because me and Pam—"

Jackie waved at him dismissively, like swatting a fly. "Steven, we need to talk."

"I need to eat," Hyde said. The person ahead of him received his order and left. Hyde took his place at the counter, asked for a burger, fries, and a Coke, but Jackie squeezed beside him.

"Why are you being so weird with me lately?" she said. "If you want to stop hanging out, just say so."

He didn't want to stop, but he didn't know what else to do. His life was what it was, and he stared silently at the counter.

"Eric, help?" The desperation in her voice drew his gaze. Her face was flushed, like she was holding back tears, and his throat started to hurt.

"Only been two months," he said hoarsely. That was what he'd been telling himself. He and Jackie were using each other to get over other people, but they'd done it too well.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said.

Kelso stuck his head between her and Hyde. "What's _what _supposed to mean?"

"Oh, forget it." She moved away from the order counter, but Hyde grasped her gloved hand

"Jackie, wait, okay?"

Her fingers were loose around his palm, but she didn't pull free.

"Hey," he said to Frank, the cashier, "make mine to go?"

"No problem," Frank said, and he bagged Hyde's order when it arrived at the counter.

Hyde still held Jackie's hand as he led her outside. The evening was freezing, and he brought her down the block. His corduroy jacket was too thin for this weather. Worse, it had lost its last button, and safety pins barely held it closed. He didn't even have a sweater on because he had no sweaters left. His ma had given them and his wool coat to her latest boyfriend.

Out of view of The Hub's windows, he finally spoke. "All right, the thing is..." He let go of her hand and coughed into his wrist. He'd thought the words hundreds of times. Maybe thousands, but saying them aloud was like expelling cement from his throat. "My life is a shithole."

"Uh-huh..." She looked at him as if his explanation were incomplete.

It was.

"Been tryin' to figure out if our _coolness _could keep going without that shit gettin' in the way." He undid the safety pins of his coat with cold, stiff fingers. He needed to hold the jacket closed himself, and he wrapped it around his warm bag of food. "But the longer we stay at it, the bigger chance you take being exposed to some nasty stuff—and you don't want that. Trust me."

"Would you have exposed Donna to it if she'd chosen you over Eric?"

Her question pricked his already-tingling skin. "Donna's been exposed. She's known me a long time."

Jackie nodded and pressed her tongue to her top left molars. He recognized the expression. She'd made a decision, probably to call it quits. A rational choice. He'd been a coward the last two weeks

"So I guess it's time to vaccinate me," she said.

"Vaccinate you?" He released his jacket and pulled off his shades. She was making no damn sense.

"You seem to think your life is some kind of disease. Since I want to be part of it, I better see a little of the worst." She gestured toward the street. "Bring me to you house."

He laughed and scratched the nape of his neck. "I don't think so."

"Why not? You've been to my house more than once, and you've met my parents. It's only fair I meet yours."

His laughter faded, but his nails bit into the skin just below his hair. "You see Edna every freakin' day in the school cafeteria."

"Yes..." She caught his arm by the jacket sleeve and dragged his hand from his neck. "But I've never _met her _met her."

"No way. Better if we quit fooling around."

"Stop trying to protect me." She grabbed his frozen hand with both her gloved ones. "Because it's so obvious that's what you're doing. And maybe you're also trying to protect yourself." She rubbed his fingers between her hands, warming them. "But if you can honestly say you'll be happy if we never touched or talked again, then go back into The Hub."

He looked up and took in the night sky. It seemed to reflect his insides: an endless void where cardinal directions became meaningless. North, south, east, west ... Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, but Jackie was still rubbing his cold fingers.

"Damn it." He could move toward the sun or out of the solar system. "You got bus fare? Spent all my cash on dinner."

She gripped his palm hard. "How did you plan on getting home?"

"Wasn't sure if I'd go home tonight."

"Do you do that often?"

"Depends on the night. Saturday's usually not a good one."

She gaped at him like she was terrified. That was an appropriate reaction. He pretty much lived in terror daily, but he coped. His only other option was giving up.

"But you'll stay by the front door," he said, "and I'll see what's what. Either way, you won't get hurt. That's all I can tell you right now. Won't blame you if you want to back out."

Her grip on his hand remained firm. Her message was clear, and he led her past a dozen streetlamps to the bus stop.

* * *

The bus let Jackie and Steven off a few blocks from Steven's house. Streetlamps here didn't flicker like she'd expected they would. They offered constant light, revealing the ramshackle homes in the neighborhood. If these houses were any indication, though, Steven's home would be far less charming than Steven himself.

He'd shared his dinner with her on the bus, the French fries and Coke, but she'd refused his burger. He had so little, and she could get a full meal any time at home—and before their stop, she gave him her gloves. She had to insist. He was stubborn about it, but his mom had donated his winter clothes to a lover because, apparently, "nothing in the house was his."

Outside in the cold, he tried to get her gloves to fit his hands. It was useless. His fingers were too long and thick. His palms were too big, and he passed the gloves back to her. "Thanks anyway."

"I'll buy you bigger gloves," she said as they quickened their pace. "No, a whole new winter wardrobe! We can go to the mall tomorrow, and you—"

"Appreciate the offer, but I've lived through bad winters before. I'll just borrow some of Forman's stuff."

"But what if your mom takes that, thinking its hers?"

He smiled, an ephemeral flash of joy in this joyless neighborhood. "Me and Forman have a system. He gives me a sweatshirt at school or in the basement, and I wear it 'til I gotta go back … here."

They'd reached his house, whose front yard wasn't dead but dormant. Grass would grow again in the spring, but a patio chair lay on its side like a forgotten corpse.

"Welcome to _La Casa de Hyde,_" he said, "otherwise known as _La Casa de la Mierda._"

They climbed the three steps of his porch, which was littered with junk. A splintered wooden plank leaned against a rusted space heater. A tattered loveseat sat under a window, and an oily hubcap had been dropped near it.

Steven opened the screen door. It wasn't locked, and Jackie held it for him while he unlocked the front door. "If Edna's home, she's gonna be an asshole sober and worse if she's drunk."

"I can handle it." Jackie had dealt with assholes for six weeks, her no-longer friends at school.

"Stay out here until I call ya," he said, "or I come back out."

He entered the house. The lights inside were on, and Jackie switched her grip from the screen door to the front door. That gave her a view of the living room, with its beige walls and battered furniture.

"Hey, Ma!" Steven shouted. He walked to the left, vanishing from sight. He continued to call for his mom and eventually reappeared, only to disappear down a hallway.

Jackie clutched the door, and the winter sliced through her coat. Less than a minute passed, but she peeked her head inside the house. "Steven?"

She received no answer. Steven could be in trouble, and she went into the living room. Broken furniture was piled in a corner. The couch's upholstery was shredded, and paintings hung crookedly on the dirt-stained wall.

His house was a catastrophe. That explained why he'd never invited her over, but his upbringing wasn't his fault.

She strode down the hallway. Musty curtains lined the windows, but she found Steven in what had to be the master bedroom. Light from a ceiling lamp fell on his mom, who was sprawled on the bed. Two vodka bottles lay at his feet, and he was shaking her.

"Steven, what are you doing?" Jackie said.

He continued to shake his mom on the bed. "Ma—Ma, wake the hell up already!"

He sounded scared and angry, but his mom lifted her arm and slapped his face with no real power. "Leemeelone," she mumbled.

"Sorry, Ma, but you know the drill." He turned her onto her stomach, angled her head up, and slid her hand under her cheek, as if to keep her head in that position.

"Goodson," she said. "Goo..."

He stepped back from the bed and removed his sunglasses. He scrubbed his hand over his face, and Jackie said, "Is your mom okay?"

"She's super wasted, so … yeah. She's probably okay." He exhaled a long, slow breath, like he was weary from a years-long battle. "But I've gotta keep an eye on her, make sure she hasn't drunk herself into the grave."

"Donbeestpid," his mom muttered.

Jackie pulled off her gloves and stuffed them into her coat pockets. "Okay. Then I'll stay with you."

"No, you need to go home." He ushered her toward the bedroom door. "I've been through this before, and it won't be pretty. Gonna be a long night."

"It's not even seven o'clock on a Saturday." She grasped the doorframe. He wasn't going to push her out. "My dad's away on a business trip, and my mom … I'll just tell her I'm sleeping over at Christine Van Newcastle's. Does your house have a working phone?"

He squinted, as if the question annoyed him. "Yeah. Who's Christine Van Newcastle?"

"One of many 'friends' I made up to bypass my curfew. I haven't used her yet."

"Clever. You really plan on stayin'?"

She tilted her head and spoke in a fake haughty tone. "If you insist."

He glanced back at his mom. "Then you should bring us a couple of chairs from the kitchen."

Jackie's breath hitched. This was not a happy situation at all, but she was strangely excited. "I can do that."

* * *

Steven had finally given Jackie his phone number. During their last six weeks together, he'd denied it to her, but she needed it now.

In the living room, she wiped the mouthpiece of his telephone on her shirt before using it it. Her mom bought her story and wrote down Steven's number as Christine Van Newcastle's. Jackie was free to spend all night here, in this dilapidated house, without her mom calling the police.

She headed for the kitchen, passing by the TV on her way. It was supported by two dining chairs with metal legs, not a table, but the kitchen chairs didn't match them They had wooden legs, and the upholstery on one chair had been duct-taped.

She dragged the pair into the master bedroom, and Steven quirked up an eyebrow. "Two at once? You're stronger than you look."

"_Duh._ I'm on the cheer squad. How close do you want these to the bed?"

"I got 'em." He positioned the chairs halfway between the long side of the bed and the wall. "You got that one," he said and indicated the chair without duct tape.

She sat down, but his mom mumbled "Yubringslustomouse?"

"I think she's sobering up a little. I understood that," Jackie said and addressed his mom. "For your information, Mrs. Hyde, I am not a slut. I'm a virgin."

"Virgin." She laughed like the word was the funniest punchline in existence. "Virgin."

Steven looked at Jackie apologetically. He hadn't sat down yet, and he said, "I'd tell her to shut up, but her talking is a good sign. She's gotta keep doin' it."

"I don't care what she says about me. I know who I am."

"Know who _he _is?" His mom laughed again. "Lisole. Lisole."

"Little sole?" Jackie removed her coat and draped it on the back of the chair. "Is she calling you a fish?"

He clenched his fists at his sides. "_Little asshole. _That's her nickname for me. _Big asshole _is my dad."

"Lovely." She gestured to the duct-taped chair. "Sit down, Steven. We haven't talked in a week. We have a lot to catch up on."

"You wanna talk in front of _her_?"

"Do you think she'll remember anything about tonight?"

"Not much."

She patted the chair's duct-taped seat. "Then I think we're safe."

He sat, but the chair's wooden leg snapped under his weight. He dropped to the floor, and his face distorted with a shout. He pushed himself up, continued to shout, and grabbed the chair. Its broken leg hung on by a splinter, and he moved away from Jackie.

She tried to speak, but he smashed the chair against the floor. Wood flew through the doorway, and she grasped her knees. She'd never seen him this angry. He was red-faced and breathing heavily, but his gaze shot to the bed.

His mom was vomiting. Jackie hadn't heard her, but he must have.

"Hell!" He dashed to her side and stopped her from rolling onto her back. "Jackie, get some towels from the closet. In the hallway—go!"

Jackie hurried out of the room, but the linen closet wouldn't open. Its cheap metal door was off its track. She shoved it into place and yanked it open. Most of the towels inside were stained, dotted with bleach spots, or full of holes, but she chose the three cleanest ones.

She returned to the bedroom and gagged at the smell. Vomit was spilling from the bed to the floor. Some had gotten on Steven's boots.

He grabbed two of the towels and cleaned what he could of his mom, himself, and the floor. Jackie stood by, pinching her nose but ready to help. He didn't ask, though. He worked efficiently, like he'd done this dozens of times, and she was grateful. Touching vomit might make her vomit. The smell was bad enough.

He laid the last towel over the soiled bedspread. Vomit smeared his fingers, and he held up his hand. "This is my life, Jackie. This is my goddamn life."

"What're you complaining about?" his mom said. She was more intelligible now. "I gave you everything … everything!"

Steven's temple twitched, but he stayed silent.

"I'll watch her. Go wash up," Jackie said, but he flicked his eyes between her and his mom. "I'll watch her," she repeated, and he blew out a breath. He picked the two dirtied towels from the floor and left the bedroom.

Jackie leaned against the wall, praying the vomiting wouldn't start again. Steven's mom was incredibly lucky to have him—and he was horribly unlucky to have her as a mother.

* * *

Jackie had stayed with Hyde for hours. He'd hefted his dad's old armchair into the bedroom, and he and Jackie took turns sitting on it. He'd also brought them material to read, like comic books Forman gave him and the latest copy of _National Lampoon._

Jackie was yawning in the armchair now, with her legs dangling over the armrest. He'd let her have a double shift on it. The surviving kitchen chair was stable enough under him, and he said, "You can sleep, man. It's after two in the morning."

"Does she ever hit you?"

His body jerked at the question, and hundreds of memories prickled his skin. His tongue was leaden, but Edna answered for him: "He always deserves it."

She was still drunk but understandable. She'd slept a while after puking, but she'd entered her _talking shit _phase. "He's just like his deadbeat father," she said, gripping her pillow—_Hyde's _pillow. He'd exchanged her dirty one for his clean one. "Just like Gary … selfish."

"Who's Gary?" Jackie said.

Hyde rolled up the issue of _The Hulk _he'd been reading."My latest 'uncle' or, considering the amount of Vodka Edna guzzled, my ex-'uncle. He's the one who got my winter coat."

"Don't you act all high and mighty," Edna said. "You drink just as much as I do."

Jackie glared at him, seeming more awake than before. He shook his head _no. _He'd never been as drunk as either of his folks, but turning into them was a possibility. He had no illusions about that.

"Who's the little girl, Steven? You raiding playgrounds now?" Edna hadn't talked about Jackie much yet, but the true torment of the night was starting. He would've told Jackie to go home, but wandering his neighborhood so late wasn't safe. Better a bruised mind than a broken body.

"This is Jackie Van Newcastle." he said. His ma clearly didn't recognize her from school. "She's not even a freakin' year younger than me."

"What're you doing with my son?" Edna said to Jackie.

Jackie pointed at the armchair. "I'm sitting here."

"No. What are you _doing _with my son?"

"Trying to teach him that he doesn't deserve being hit and never did."

Edna laughed until she coughed. "You don't know him then."

"I think you're the one who doesn't—"

"Jackie," Hyde said, "I appreciate the effort, but you can't win arguing with a drunk."

"You hear how he talks about me?" Edna said, sounding tortured. "The ungrateful son of a bitch."

Jackie sat up straight in the armchair. "He's not the one who's ungrateful, but you are right about one thing: he is the son of a bitch."

Hyde pressed his fist to his mouth and laughed quietly. That was one nimble burn.

He scooped _National Lampoon _from his reading pile on the floor. Since Edna's vomit, he'd ignored every urge to show Jackie affection. His ma would only weaponize it, but he perched himself on the armrest of Jackie's chair. He flipped to a _National Lampoon_ article about JFK, and she accepted the magazine from him.

He re-read the article as she read it for the first time. They weren't touching, but their closeness set his brain right-side up.

* * *

The sun had finally broken through the bedroom window. Edna was in the bathroom, taking a piss. Maybe brushing her teeth. She'd sobered up, but Jackie was asleep in the armchair, and Hyde indulged himself a long look. She'd been great throughout all this crap, comforting him outside the bedroom, letting him be.

He nudged her shoulder gently. Her eyes fluttered open, and he said, "Time to go home."

She hid her face in the crook of her elbow. The sun was shining on her. "Is your mom sober?"

"For now. She's in the bathroom."

Jackie rose from the armchair and followed him to the living room. He helped her put on her winter coat, and they stepped out onto the porch together. The morning wasn't as cold as the night, but he crossed his arms over his chest for warmth. He was wearing only short sleeves. His corduroy jacket had puke on it.

"Ready to bail?" he said.

She stared at him defiantly. "You are not your life."

"My life made me what I am, man."

"Then a miracle occurred because you're wonderful."

_Wonderful. _No one had ever called him that before, and the compliment torched his chest. He'd lost control in front of her, wrecked a chair. "I'm not," he said.

"_Yes,_ you are." She gestured to his house. "If my mom treated me the way yours did, I wouldn't clean up her vomit or stay by her side while she degraded me. You love her, in spite of her abuse and neglect—" she reached toward his face and cradled his cheek—"and in spite of everything that's happened to you, you have a loving soul."

Her thumb caressed his sideburn, and his shoulders tensed. No one had come close to doing what she'd done for him last night.

"You're..." he began, but words weren't enough. He glided his cold hands along her warm cheeks and kissed her. He tried to transmit all that was inside him through his lips, and the chaos of his skull thinned out.

"That felt different," she said.

"Sorry. Been a long night."

"No, I mean it felt more … _personal_."

"Maybe it was."

She rested her hands on his chest and glanced down at them. "Your life does scare me, but..." She looked back up at him. "You don't."

"I broke a chair—"

"The chair broke, and you broke it more."

He laughed, in spite of his shame. That was one memory, among many, he wished he hadn't created.

"And your mom keeps trying to break you," she continued. "I'm not blind. She's like one of those evil wardens in those prison-escape movies." She twirled her finger in the air, as if trying to find a thought. "If you lived with—I don't know—the Formans, you'd feel so much better. I bet no one makes you as angry as she does."

"Fucking pinpointed it." He rubbed his forehead and shut his eyes. The emotional exhaustion he'd fended off for weeks threatened to collapse him. "That why I backed off. Didn't want to start fallin' for you..."

The winter air shook his body, opening his eyes. "But it's too damn late. After today, man, how you were … but you've got a big life ahead of you." He swept his arm over his porch. "I've got nothin'. Two months is nothin'."

"What we've done together these last two months is not nothing!" She pinched his shirt at his waist and tugged on the material. "Think about how much more we could have if we kept going."

He gazed at her helplessly. "I got nothin'."

"You have me." She tugged on his shirt harder. "And Eric, Donna, and Fez. They're your friends. _Real _friends, and so am I … if that's all you'll let me be from now on."

He slid his arms around her hips and drew her closer. Being with Kelso had held her back, and Kelso had no clue what he could've had. If Hyde gave his relationship with her a chance, he might grow in ways he didn't expect, either.

"You brought me towels for my ma's puke," he said.

"Don't remind me, but I'd do it again." She cupped the nape of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was intimate—_personal_—and his body quit shaking with the power of it.

"More than a friend," he said inches from her lips.

"But less than a girlfriend."

"Only been two months since you dumped Kelso—"

She pecked the tip of his nose, maybe to shut him up. "How much longer do I have to wait? We've already had our second date."

"Hardly consider this our second date."

"Steven!" Edna shouted from inside the house. "Get your lazy ass in here!"

He lowered his forehead to Jackie's and squeezed her hands. "Go home. And this time, listen to me."

"Don't let her hit you."

"I'll be fine. Go home."

She moved away from him and climbed down the porch steps. "Don't let her scratch you, either!" she said. "Her nails need a manicure."

"Steven!" Edna shouted by the front door, and he waved for Jackie to go down the street, toward the bus stop.

Jackie ran off, and he slammed open the screen door. Edna opened the front door herself and yanked him into the house. Today would be hell, but it was just one day. He had friends waiting for him outside. He had Jackie, and a grin surfaced on his lips even Edna couldn't slap away.


	11. False Assumptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER ELEVEN**  
FALSE ASSUMPTIONS**

Forman skipped down the basement's wooden staircase, wearing a new tuxedo jacket. Fez rose from the lawn chair as if Forman's arrival were a big event, but Hyde stayed seated in his own chair. His legs were stretched out on the footstool. He wouldn't abandon his comfortable position over a piece of clothing. Turning his head to the left was all the ceremony Forman would get from him.

"My first prom tux, huh!" Forman said. "Come on, guys, dig the crushed velvet!" He grasped his belt buckle with his left hand and thrust his right hand in the air, pointed. It had to be a dance move he'd copped from _American Bandstand. _Lame.

"Eric, you look like a pimp," Fez said, but Hyde couldn't tell if that were an insult or not.

Forman and Fez sat on the couch, with Forman sitting on the back of it. He did that a lot. Maybe to be higher than the rest of them, or his butt was too sensitive for the lumpy cushions.

He should try sitting on Hyde's couch at home sometime.

"You know, Forman," Hyde said, mimicking the didactic tone of their history teacher, "Prom night could be a very special night for you and Donna."

Four months ago, he would've been pissed about it, not encouraging. But he had feelings for another girl now, and he planned on making prom night special for her, too.

He'd become a working man the last ten weeks. Got a job at the Fotohut the day after Jackie's first—and, he hoped, last—experience drunk-sitting his ma. Earning money was cool. The boss paid him in cash, so he didn't need to open a bank account. But he hid the dough from his ma, hid the job from everyone.

"Hyde," Forman said, "this could be the biggest night of our lives! I mean Donna and I could go..."

"To the prom," Fez said.

"No, Fez." Forman thrust his arm straight ahead of himself. "_All the way._"

"All the way..." Fez repeated with a grin, "to the prom!"

Hyde chuckled. Fez's naivete could be annoying, but tonight it was a relief. Hyde had worked hard for tomorrow. Jackie thought he was doing community service, penance for a vandalism arrest. Although he had spray-painted an abandoned house in March, he hadn't gotten caught. Lying to her sucked, but the surprise would be worth it.

"You know what you should do?" he said to Forman. "Rent a motel room." Hyde had already rented one for himself and Jackie.

Forman squinted at him. "Oh, yeah. That's spontaneous."

Hyde returned the squint. "What? You afraid she'll get ticked off like she was about the ski-trip rubbers?"

Forman's objection was moronic. Girls liked when guys were prepared. Forman had just been too prepared back in January. Donna wasn't the type to go fast, but they'd been together eight months now and "official" for almost three. She was probably ready.

"Look, if this night is as big as I think," Forman said, "I want it to be very, very special because this is gonna be the first time for both of us." He launched into a cheesy, unrealistic scenario where he and Donna were on the beach, and Donna announced she and Forman were about to have sex. "Now that's spontaneous," he said afterward. "But your idea..."

He presented a counter scenario, where he and Donna signed contracts in her kitchen. In them, he agreed to foreplay, and she agreed that rubbers weren't necessary since she was on the pill.

Forman looked at Hyde as if waiting for a concession. Hyde wasn't an expert on relationships, but compared to Forman and Fez, he was an authority on sex.

"Forman," Hyde said, "if you don't get a motel, it's gonna be more like this..."

He described a scenario where Forman came home after Prom at ten o'clock at night, still a virgin, and his folks ridiculed him for having no plan.

"'Oh, Eric,'" Hyde said, imitating Mrs. Forman, "'you are such a loser!'" He laughed like her, too, but stopped when Forman made no moves for the basement phone. It sat on the couch's end table, and Hyde grabbed the receiver. "You gonna call or am I? 'Cause if you're too much of a wuss, I'll do you that favor—"

Forman snatched the receiver and dialed. He called the Le Motel, same place Hyde made his reservation. A decent, cheap choice, but their rooms had better not be next to each other Or even on the same floor. Forman and Donna's awkward noises might ruin Hyde and Jackie's good time.

The basement's back door slammed open. Kelso rushed inside, out of breath but smiling. "Okay. guys, guess who's taking Pam Macy to the prom?"

"Wait, Kelso," Forman said, "you're not taking Jackie?"

"No way, man. Jackie dumped me for Hyde!"

"I was being sarcastic."

Hyde crossed his arms over his chest. "No, she dumped you 'cause you cheated on her with Pam Macy."

Forman glanced at him. "Well, that's not completely—"

"Leave it," Hyde said. Kelso had no clue Jackie had cheated on him first—with Hyde—and knowing would make Kelso even more crazy. Hyde had to take control of this conversation, and he nodded at Kelso. "You rent a motel room?"

"No. Should I?"

"You plan on scoring tomorrow night, don't you?"

"Yeah!"

"And where the hell are you gonna do that?"

"I don't know. Pam's car?" Kelso said. "She's got a '69 Dodge Charger."

"Of course she does," Forman said.

Kelso climbed over the couch and sat on its back edge, forcing Forman to the armrest. "Motel rooms cost money," Kelso said. "Paying for a tux already set back my van fund."

"If you're taking Pam," Fez said, "I can take Jackie! I'll dance her all over that gym."

Hyde gestured to himself. "Man, I'm taking Jackie."

"But you think proms are stupid."

"I do, but I'm still taking Jackie."

Fez's gaze dropped to his lap. "All of you are going to Prom while I'll be at home, masturbating my loneliness away."

"Thanks for that image," Forman said.

"Oh!" Fez's head perked up. "I know who I can ask to the prom!"

"That mannequin at the mall you keep ogling?" Hyde said.

"No, not Veronica. The lucky lady is … my English teacher!"

"Fez, you can't take a teacher to the prom!" Kelso placed his hand on his chest. "I mean, _I _could, but you can't."

"Why not? She's always writing sexy comments on my homework: 'Nice job,' 'Good effort,' 'See me,' 'I love you.'"

Hyde, Forman, and Kelso stared at him. Just asking his English teacher to the prom would ruin Fez's rep in high school.

"Okay," Fez said, shrinking back against the couch. I made the last one up, but the other ones were real."

Hyde scrubbed his hand over his mouth. He had to get Fez a real date for tomorrow. He'd promised the kid his protection when they first met, and he stuck to his promises.

* * *

Today should've have been one of the most exciting days in Jackie's life. Junior Prom was tonight, but she had no date. As a sophomore, she couldn't go without one, but at least Donna had invited Jackie to her house. She wanted to show Jackie her prom outfit. It was a sacred ritual of friendship, and Jackie couldn't refuse, no matter how badly she felt.

She stood in Donna's kitchen as Donna brought her a pair of silver wedges. "These are the shoes I'm gonna wear!" Donna offered them to her. "Aren't they cool?"

"So cool." Jackie accepted the shoes and examined them. They'd probably be comfortable to dance in. "I was gonna get new shoes," she said, "except Steven didn't ask me."

Which made no sense at all. They'd grown so close the last two months, ever since that night in his house, but he still hadn't called her his girlfriend.

Donna brought over her double-spaghetti-strapped gown next. It was a light indigo color and would compliment her peaches-and-cream skin. "You like my prom dress, right?"

"It's beautiful. I was gonna get a new prom dress, except Steven didn't ask me."

Donna returned her gown to its hanger. It dangled from a cabinet above the fridge, where it clashed with the fridge's mustard-yellow door.

"I'm so nervous about the prom!" Donna said. "I think it's gonna be the night that Eric and I ... you know."

"Oh, my God, that's when Steven and I were gonna do it the first time!" Jackie hugged Donna's shoes to her stomach. "I was gonna book us a room at the Holiday Hotel and everything."

"Jackie, why don't you just ask Hyde to the prom?"

"God, no. It's the prom! This is no time for your stupid feminist crap!"

Jackie sat at the breakfast table, still hugging the shoes. She'd regained most of her social status at school, thanks to a technique Steven taught her. He called it being _Zen _or aloof, but acting indifferent to her classmates' scorn had made her popular again. If Steven took her to Prom, she'd become the It girl of her grade. But that was only a tiny reason she wanted to go with him.

Donna sat at the table with her. Maybe they could come up with a plan to fix the situation. They had hours left before Prom. Steven could still ask her, but Eric entered through the kitchen's back door—with _Michael_—and Jackie's breath caught. Michael had no business being here during her and Donna's sacred bonding time.

"Hello, Jackie," he said.

"Hello, Michael." She met his gaze and waited for his proposition or his burn. Those were the only ways he communicated with her anymore, but he just stared at her. "I'm just here helping Donna get ready for the prom," she said, "because … Eric and Donna are going to the prom."

"Yes, we are," Eric said solemnly, and Donna smacked his leg.

Michael, however, kept looking at Jackie and standing rigidly. "I'm going to the prom."

So he was trying to burn her. He'd simply waited for an opening, but he'd given her one instead. "With a dog?" she said.

"No. Pam Macy!"

"So I was right."

Eric gawked at Michael, like her insult had decimated him. Donna covered her mouth, laughing quietly, but Michael's focus remained on Jackie. "Are you jealous?" he said. "Because you sound jealous. If you want me to take you, just tell me, and I'll dump her. Your dad's Lincoln's got leather seats, doesn't it?"

Jackie sat back in the chair and narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"I think what he's saying," Donna said, "is that he'd rather lose his virginity to you than to her."

Jackie's eyes widened. Just the idea of Michael touching her was horrifying. "God, I hope Pam takes your virginity at Prom."

"Thanks, Jackie!" Michael's stance relaxed. His legs bent a little, and his arms regained their usual floppiness. "Wow, for an ex-girlfriend, I thought you were bitchy. But it turns out you're pretty nice. So after Pam and I do it—" he nodded at her—"I can do it with you. Not the same night 'cause I'll be tired, but the next day, I'll be raring to go."

She slapped the table with one of Donna's shoes. "You're disgusting!"

Donna snatched the shoes from her, but Michael said, "Damn, Jackie! Would you quit sending me mixed signals already? Should I dump Pam and take you to the prom—or take Pam to the prom and do it with you the next day?"

Eric clasped Michael's shoulder. "Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Who?"

"Hyde."

"What about him?" Michael said.

"He's taking Jackie to Prom," Eric said.

Jackie leaned forward against the table, heart foxtrotting in her chest. "He is?"

Michael pointed to himself. "Not if you dump him for me—"

She leapt of the chair and shoved past him. Steven had to be in the Formans' basement, waiting for her, and she raced across the Pinciottis' patio to the Formans' driveway. She darted around their house, and barreled down the exterior staircase.

She reached the basement's back door but gave herself a few seconds to breathe. Inside, Steven would be dressed in the suit she'd bought him for Valentine's Day. A bouquet of roses would be in his arms, with balloons festooning the basement walls. Fez would stand behind him, holding a banner with Steven's prom proposal.

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob. She pushed open the door, ready for her surprise, but Steven was sitting on the couch and watching television. He wore a denim shirt and brown corduroy pants. Fez wasn't there, and neither were the banner or balloons.

"Are you taking me to the prom?" she said, slightly out of breath.

He looked at her from the couch, but that was the biggest movement she got from him. "Yeah."

"Then why didn't you ask me?"

"Thought it was a given."

"How?" She sat beside him on the couch, but his legs were propped on the footstool. He didn't turn his body toward her, as if this conversation weren't a big deal. "I haven't gotten a dress," she said, "or shoes—" _or a hotel room—_"or anything!"

He drummed a rhythm on his legs, near his knees. "Just wear a dress and a pair of shoes you already own. You've got tons of 'em in your closet."

"I do, but I wanted my prom dress to be special. And I have to get you a tux!" She tugged on one of his long sleeves. "Steven, Prom is tomorrow. How could you do this to me?"

"Technically, this isn't your prom. It's mine. And you don't have to get me a tux. I've got that covered."

"You do?"

"Shoes, too."

_"You do?" _She grasped his hand, needing to connect with him. Despite his reassuring words, he was acting disengaged. "But how can you afford it?"

He squeezed her palm. "Don't worry about that."

"Oh, my God—" She let go of his hand, grabbed his other one, and glanced at his watch. The mall would close in two hours. "What color is your dress shirt?"

"Huh?"

"Your dress shirt! I have to color-coordinate."

His eyes flicked to the side, as if he were searching for the answer in his memory. "Purple, I guess."

"Purple? What shade? Violet, lavender, orchid—"

"I don't know, man. Lightish purple."

She patted his knee. That was enough information to work with, and she dashed from the basement. Halfway up the stone stairs, though, Steven's voice hit her ears: "Hold on! I need you to do me a favor."  
She stopped climbing and glanced down at him. He was standing by the basement door. "I'm not sure you deserve one," she said, "considering you didn't ask me to Prom."

He heaved out a breath. "Jackie, will you go to the freakin' prom with me?"

"Yes!" She hurried down the stairs and flung her arms around his neck. "Yes, I'll freaking go with you!" she said, and he hugged her back. He finally seemed engaged, and she smiled into his shoulder. "Now what's that favor?"

"Finding Fez a date to the prom."

She stepped back from him. "In twenty-four hours?"

"It's either that, or he goes with his English teacher."

"Oh, no."

Fez's reputation at school was already shaky. Going to Prom with his English teacher would have far-reaching consequences, not just for him but all his friends, too.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do." She clutched Steven's wrist and used the leverage draw herself closer to him. She moved in for a kiss. He puckered his lips, but she withdrew before their mouths could touch.

"What the hell was that?" he said.

"Next time you assume something is a given between us, don't."

She left him at the bottom of the staircase. Tonight could be monumental—if he'd learned his lesson.

* * *

Hyde stood in front of the Burkharts' house, waiting for the front door to open. Jackie's corsage box was wedged under his arm, and mentally he crammed his nerves into a similar box. He'd had to take the bus here in his black tux. Hearing the snickers of other bus riders was bad enough. But meeting Jackie's parents again, without Fez to draw half their contempt, would be a test of his control.

Muffled voices broke through the front door. Sounded like a minor argument, but the door opened, and Hyde's breath staggered out of him. Jackie was standing before him in a lavender dress. Lacy fingerless gloves covered her hands, and her hair was in a curly bun, with white carnations pinned to one side.

He wished he'd worn his shades. He was staring at her like a dumbass.

"Steven—oh, you look so handsome!" Her smile stole his gaze, but her expression withered "You don't like my dress?" She touched the carnations in her hair. "Is my hair too fancy?"

A chill rattled through him, followed by a flickering heat in his stomach. He had to speak before the night was ruined. "You're fuckin' perfect," he said, and his mouth dried out. He shouldn't have cursed, but her smile returned.

"Oh, my God, so are you!" She gripped his hand and pulled him into the foyer. Her steps set the pace, and together they hurried to the parlor. Its décor was over-wrought, deliberately chosen to appear expensive, and her folks fit right in, clad in what had to be designer threads. "Mom, Dad," she said, "doesn't Steven look handsome?"

Mrs. Burkhart was holding a camera, and her manicured fingernails tapped the top of it. "He really does clean up well for a delinquent."

"Mom!"

"Now, darling," Mr. Burkhart said his wife, "Steven hasn't been arrested in a few months. Isn't that right, Steven?"

Hyde's arms stiffened at his sides, and the corsage box crinkled. His police record was supposed to be sealed, but Jackie's dad had connections. He must've bribed cop to get that info, but Hyde's past was none of his damn business.

"I got you this." Hyde presented the golden corsage box to Jackie. Focusing on her was the smart move, better than drop-kicking one of the Burkharts' lamps into their piano.

"A corsage!" she said. "Put it on me?"

Mrs. Burkhart snapped pictures as he slid the corsage of pink, lavender, and white flowers, onto Jackie's left wrist.

"I love it!" Jackie said, gazing at the corsage. "Thank you, Steven. I never thought this was how my first prom would go, but..." She hugged his waist. He wanted to hug her back with the same intensity, but with her folks watching them, he manged only a loose embrace.

"Sometimes the best things in life are the unexpected," she continued. "You taught me that."

She released him but kissed his cheek. Showing him that much affection in front of her folks took guts. It was a rejection of their ideals and proof she wasn't ashamed of him.

"For someone so poor, you have good taste," Mrs. Burkhart said. "Where did you steal that corsage from—so I can write the store a check?"

Jackie grimaced. "Would you please stop talking to him like he's a criminal?"

"But, sweetheart, he _is. _Has he told you about his police record?"

"He did, and once was his mom's fault. The other two, he shouldn't have been arrested for—"

"Other two?" Mr. Burkhart said. "I know only of two arrests, not three."

Hyde hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. He wasn't used to being defended, but he'd given Jackie some false info to keep his plans for tonight secret. "One arrest," he said. "Number two was a mistake and shouldn't even be on my record, and there is no number three."

"What about that abandoned house on Sherman?" Jackie whispered by his ear.

"Been torn down."

"I know that! And _you_ know what I mean."

"Didn't get caught."

"But you told me—"

Mrs. Burkhart waved her hand in the air. "All right. Since you insist on going to the dance with him, we might as well go through the motions." She raised her camera and gestured for Jackie and Hyde to move closer to each other. "Let's see a sweet, romantic pose."

Hyde had no idea what a romantic pose was. He let Jackie position him, and Mr. Burkhart said, "Higher," when she placed Hyde's right hand on her hip.

The camera flash went off. Jackie posed herself and Hyde differently for each picture, and Mr. Burkhart ended the photoshoot after half a dozen shots.

"That's fine, honey," he said to Mrs. Burkhart and seized her camera. "We've got enough pictures for an album." He put the camera on a side table and stepped closer to Hyde. "What are your intentions toward my daughter?"

Jackie groaned, but Hyde said, "To have a good time—at the prom … sir."

Mr. Burkhart was an inch shorter than Hyde and not as intimidating as Red, who scared Hyde shitless sometimes. Still, Mr. Burkhart was Jackie's dad, and that gave him a power Hyde had to respect, like a tornado or earthquake.

"Her first boyfriend was a complete idiot with no prospects," Mr. Burkhart said. "What do you plan to major in when you go to college?"

"Dad, please!" Jackie wedged herself between him and Hyde. "He's not even my boyfriend. We're just going to the prom together."

Mrs. Burkhart sank into an armchair and cupped her forehead. "Oh, thank God."

Hyde's throat grew thick. _Man_, had he screwed up. In his skull, Jackie was already his girlfriend. He'd thought of her that way for weeks but hadn't said it aloud. He needed to fix that, using language her folks would understand.. "Jackie," he said, and she faced him, "you wanna go steady?"

The corners of her lips ticked up. "Are you serious?"

"Don't have a class ring to give you, but I'm serious about us getting serious."

"Sweetie," her mom said, "you should think about—"

Jackie thrust herself into Hyde's arms. "I'd love to be your girlfriend!"

He hugged her tightly, not caring what her parents thought. The bobby pins in her hair scraped his ear, but her joy had the same intoxicating effect pot had on him. It was calming and exhilarating at once, and the contradiction made him dizzy.

Her dad coughed, prompting Hyde to let her go, but Jackie clutched Hyde's arm to her stomach. She twined her fingers with his and said, "I'm his girlfriend!"

"Fantastic," her mom said and looked at Mr. Burkhart. "Our daughter's in a relationship with the lunch lady's son."

"It's just a rebellious phase, dear."

"No, it isn't," Jackie said. "I'm in a relationship with the most incredible boy in the world. Once you get to know him, you'll see how amazing he is."

Mrs. Burkhart twirled her finger above her head. "Can he levitate?"

"Pam, darling, decorum," Mr. Burkhart said and clasped Hyde's shoulder. "I expect Jackie to come home from the prom exactly as she leaves here..." He gave Hyde's shoulder a hard squeeze before releasing it. "If you understand my meaning."

Translation: _"Don't deflower my daughter," _but that choice was up to Jackie, no one else.

"We'll stay five-feet apart during every dance, man," Hyde said. "And no slow dances."

"That's what I like to hear!" Mr. Burkhart laughed and clapped Hyde on the back. Then he hugged Jackie. "Have a good time, kitten!"

"Thank you," Jackie said. "'Bye!"

She half-led, half-yanked Hyde out the house. Her dad's Lincoln Continental was parked on the gravel driveway. She plucked the keys from her purse and shoved them into Hyde's palm. "Get in the car," she said. "Get in the car!"

He unlocked the doors and slid into the driver's seat. She sat beside him in the passenger seat and shouted, "Drive!"

He put on his seat belt before starting the engine. He indicated for her to do the same. She tried, but she couldn't get the belt tongue into the buckle. He helped her and said, "What're you so freaked out about?"

Gravel crunched beneath the Lincoln's wheels as he drove, but she didn't speak until they were off her property. "Was I the only one in there? My parents were awful to you!"

"So? I'm not dating your folks. I'm dating you."

She was quiet again for a while. "I don't want anyone to hurt you."

"Too late for that." His childhood had been full of people who hurt him—hell, his life still was, but in the rearview mirror, Jackie's reflection was growing visibly red. If she ruined her makeup by crying, she'd be pissed. "But I'm cool," he said and turned the Lincoln onto Pine Avenue "You got nothin' to feel bad about, okay?"

"Whenever you say you're cool, you're hiding what you really mean."

He clenched the steering wheel. Sharing what was in his skull went against his nature, but she'd earned it. "Before you, man … didn't know feeling happy was an option for me."

Her face flushed redder, and she burst into tears.

"Holy shit. Jackie—" He reached toward her with his right hand, and the Lincoln swerved on the street. The car behind them honked, and he reaffirmed his grip on the steering wheel. "Jackie, quit cryin'. You're fucking up your makeup." Fucking_ him _up.

"I don't care! Pull over!"

He found an empty length of street around the corner of Meadow Drive. That was lucky. Parallel parking the Lincoln would've been a hassle. It was a big car, and he might've knocked off its bumper.

Jackie opened the glove box. A mound of tissues was inside, and she blew her nose. She blotted her cheeks afterward, but her makeup was only smudged around the eyes. She must have had practice crying with makeup on, but no more tears fell.

"You ready to go?" he said.

"Yes, but not where you think." She cupped his knee. "Let's do it."

His leg tingled where she touched it, and the sensation traveled up his thigh. "You're not givin' me your virginity out of pity."

"Pity? Do you know who you're talking to?"

He laughed softly. Jackie Burkhart didn't do pity. She offered condescension or compassion and very little in between.

"I'm ready to be with you," she said. _"Now."_

"In your car? Not enough room to make your first time what you want it to be."

She removed her hand from his knee and stroked his jaw. "As long as it's with you, it'll be everything I want."

Warmth spread into his face. He turned his head and kissed her wrist.

"So are we...?" she said.

"Dancing first," he said. She lowered her head, obviously disappointed, but her head and mood lifted as he drove them to Point Place High.


	12. All the Way ... to the Prom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER TWELVE**  
ALL THE WAY … TO THE PROM**

Jackie held Steven's hand as they entered their high school gym. It was packed with dancing juniors and a few people from other grades, but the prom committee could've used Jackie's input. The dance's theme was obviously spring, with its pastel streamers and balloons. A pergola of spring flowers was the setting for official prom photos, too.

How mundane.

The committee could've released butterflies or doves in the gym. Used gels on the gym lights to create a sunset effect, but none of that truly mattered. Jackie was here with Steven, her boyfriend. That was all she needed.

They walked past dancing couples, but Steven's fingers grew loose on her hand. "This song is so lame, man. People should be puking, not dancing."

10cc's "I'm Not in Love" played over the PA system, and it described exactly what Jackie had feared until a half-hour ago. "Steven, listen to the lyrics."

"Can't do it," he said. "The way the guy's singing—the freakin' music—it's trying to force me to feel something I don't. It's a goddam manipulation." He gestured in the air with their joined hands. "Stores pump this crap through their speakers to make us susceptible. I'm not gonna buy a thousand-dollar necklace 'cause of a song."

He dropped her hand and twitched, as if shaking insects off his skin. "Shit, I hate music like this. It's turning my skin inside-out."

"Oh, my God—" She laughed, even as he continued to jerk his body. "I had no idea you could be so dramatic! If you keep doing that, people are gonna think it's a new dance craze."

"Damn it." His weird movements stopped. "All right..." He inhaled deeply. "I'm good."

"You better be." Because she wanted to dance with him, not twitch. She'd had enough of that with Michael.

She grasped his hand again and led him deeper into the gym. Nearby, Donna and Eric were dancing close together. They gazed into each other's eyes like one else existed, and Donna's fingers combed through the back of Eric's hair.

Jackie anticipated Steven's reaction to them, to seeing the girl he couldn't have be so in love with someone else. But he pointed to a different part of the gym, where Fez was dancing with Barbara McLeod.

"Hey," Steven said, in a more cheery mood than before, "you found him a date who won't grade his moves."

"She still might. Barbara is very discerning."

Fez twirled Barbara adeptly. Steven should've been doing the same to Jackie. They should've been dancing by now, but he said, "How'd you make that happen?"

She stood in front of him, attempting to block Fez and Barbara from his sight. "Are you stalling until this song is over?"

"Yeah. So how'd you do it?"

"I invited Barbara to help me shop for my dress," she said, "and talked up how good a dancer Fez is. I said whoever he takes to Prom will be displayed to the school like a flower." She spread out her fingers, imitating petals opening to the sun. "She asked for his number, called him from the mall, and here they are."

Steven touched her shoulder. "You do good work."

"I know." She brushed her knuckle over his pink carnation boutonniere. She'd given it to him in the school parking lot, had purposely waited in case her parents were horrible to him—which they had been. She'd left it on the Lincoln's back seat, along with her makeup bag. That had allowed her to restore her face to its pre-tears condition. "So how did you pay for your tuxedo and my corsage?" she said.

"Got a job."

She gripped the lapel of his tux. "Where? When?"

"Fotohut. Day you left my house, once Edna quit bitching about how 'Uncle' Gary dumped her." He rubbed his jaw. "Seein' you in my crappy hellhole … well, it made me see just how crappy it is."

His rubbing turned into scratching and emigrated to his neck. "You live in shit your whole life," he said, "you no longer smell it, you know? But I started smellin' it real bad, and without dough, I've got to keep stealing from Edna's purse, and..."

She pulled his hand from his skin. He was so uncomfortable, but the song finally changed. Foghat's "Slow Ride" began, and she said, "Is this better?"

"Hell yeah."

He held her in a traditional closed position, and a thrill buzzed through her. His body was solid and warm, and he moved with confidence, leading her across the gym floor.

"You really are a good dancer," she said.

"Nothin' like Fez." He turned them, giving her a view of Fez and Barbara performing fancy spins and dips.

"It's a show—a performance." She looked into Steven's eyes. "This is real."

A smile rose on his lips. "Yeah."

They danced the rest of the song without talking, but two-thirds through, she spotted Michael. He was holding Pam Macy around the waist, and Pam's giant breasts pushed against his chest. His attention, though, seemed to be on Jackie.

"Can we dance somewhere we won't be spied on?" she said.

Steven brought her through the crowd, closer to Donna and Eric. Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" played over the PA, and Jackie glided her arms around Steven's back. She was hugging him, but he embraced her just as intimately, and they danced like that—to a song that used to make her fantasize about Michael.

She shivered against Steven's body. Staying with Michael might've cost her more than any diamond necklace. He would've destroyed her self-esteem, her ability to trust. Maybe even her future. But she was with Steven now, and she hugged him tighter.

"Tiny Dancer" gave way to the Bee Gees' "You Should Be Dancing". She waited for Steven to excuse himself, to announce he was thirsty and flee to the punch bowl. But he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her in an energetic, rousing dance around the gym. People backed off from them, donating their floor space. They might've been watching, too, but Jackie focused on Steven and her thundering heart.

Toward the end of the song, Fez and Barbara grabbed some of Jackie and Steven's floor. They showed off disco moves they must've learned from _Soul Train_ or _American Bandstand, _and Jackie bumped into Barbara's hip.

"Hey!" Barbara shouted, but Jackie was taking this moment back.

Steven twirled her around three times, but she cupped his chin and kissed him deeply. Most people in the crowed oohed and aahed. Some laughed, but Jackie glared at Fez and Barbara afterward, challenging them to top that kiss.

Fez puckered his lips and angled his head toward Barbara's, but she ducked. Laughter exploded from the crowd, and Barbara said, "We're nowhere close to that yet. Stick to dancing."

"But we can get close to that?" Fez said.

"Let's see how this night goes."

"Shake Your Booty" by KC and the Sunshine Band pumped through the PA system. The dance floor filled with people again, penning Jackie and Steven in, and he said, "You wanna get our picture taken?"

"Sure—" She stumbled forward as someone's butt crashed into her back. "Don't shake your booty at me!" she shouted, but another butt struck her side. "Let's get out of here!"

She grasped Steven's wrist, and they cut through the rowdy dancers. They reached the flower-covered pergola, where the photographer was stationed, and found Donna and Eric at the end of the photo line.

"Wow, you guys look great!" Donna said.

"You really tore it up on the dance floor," Eric said but shook his hand by his temple. "I feel like I'm in _The Twilight Zone._"

Donna poked his shoulder. "Hyde can dance."

"I remember. I watched him do it with you at the Kenosha disco."

They all stepped forward in the line, and Jackie raised her eyebrows. "At least that's all they did. Be happy about that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eric said, voice rising, but she was only speaking the truth.

"It means," she said, "if any of us made different choices, Steven and Donna could've fallen in love."

"Is the punch spiked?" Donna said. "Because you sound drunk."

"It's called being philosophical, Donna."

"Well, they didn't fall in love," Eric said, "and … oh, hey. We're up."

The photographer waved him and Donna under the pergola, and Steven nudged Jackie's arm. "You purposely tryin' to get under Forman's skin?" he said. "'Cause it's freakin' hot."

He was grinning, and doves' wings flapped in her stomach. The way he looked at her had changed over a month ago, and she loved it.

"I'm just having thoughts," she said. "Our lives seem so random, but are they? Why do some people make the right decisions," like herself and Steven, "and some people don't?"

"It's all about mistakes, man. Everyone makes 'em. Not everyone learns from 'em."

"But why—?" Her voice hitched. Michael and Pam Macy were sitting a table nearby and making out. It was sloppy and gross, and Jackie fixed her gaze on Steven. "What makes some people smart and other people idiots?"

"You got me, but it's not just about smarts. It's giving a crap how other people feel, that kind of thing."

The photographer's flash went off. Donna and Eric broke their pose, and Jackie and Steven took their place beneath the pergola.

"Aren't you two a pretty couple?" the photographer said. He was an older man, maybe in his fifties, with wispy gray hair. "You even color-coordinated."

Jackie slapped Steven's chest lightly. "Hah! Knowing the difference between orchid and lavender is important, Steven. Don't forget that."

"Okay..."

"All right, hold her like you mean it," the photographer said, and Steven slid his arm around Jackie's waist. She slipped her own arm around his back, and the photographer said, "Great. Now smile in three, two, one..."

Steven kissed Jackie's cheek as the flash went off. Her skin tingled at the contact, and she giggled. She hadn't expected him to be so romantic.

"Very sweet," the photographer said.

Jackie pointed at his camera. "That photo better not be blurry."

"Young lady, I'm a professional."

He waved her and Steven away, and they darted from the pergola. A new song played through the speakers, but her body reacted to it first, skin prickling and muscles tensing. Then the memories came. This song often accompanied Steven's most attentive touches during their private time together.

"Is this Led Zeppelin?" she said.

"Yup. 'Since I've Been Loving You'."

She held out her hand to him. "Dance with me?"

His fingers enclosed her palm, and they returned to the dance floor. Their dance was slow and close, but as the song's emotion intensified, he enveloped her in an embrace and whispered, "I got us a motel room."

Her breathing stopped. She pressed her hands hard against his back and forced air into her lungs. "I booked a hotel room."

"Huh." He withdrew from her, just a little.

"But we could go to the motel," she said. She had no idea what his _"Huh," _meant, if using her parents' wealth had annoyed him. "You spent money on it that you worked hard for—"

"Trust me, I don't work that hard. My boss is cool—"

"Steven."

"_Actually_ cool, man. You should meet him. He's so damn laid back I had to tell _him_ to get back to work my first week there."

She pinched the material his tuxedo jacket. The tux actually fit him, so it didn't have enough cloth to bunch in her fists. "Okay," she said, "but we could still go to your motel if clean sheets and room service goes against some kind of weird code you have."

He squinted at her, like what she'd said was nonsense. "I got no code against bein' comfortable, unless..." His expression relaxed, and he patted her lower back. "_You_ like slummin' it. A roach-infested room, where we might have Forman and Donna as neighbors? Doesn't get slummier."

"That's the kind of place you'd bring me to?" She shoved him back a step. "For what we're gonna do there?"

"It's all I could freakin' afford."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." Her stomach shrank against her spine. She'd sounded like her parents. If Steven started to hate himself because of her … "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Be my boyfriend?"

He closed the gap between them. "Wouldn't have asked you to go 'steady' otherwise."

"But I say some very hurtful things sometimes."

"So do I."

The opening notes of ABBA's "Dancing Queen" filtered into the gym. Steven bowed low, offering his hand. She considered striking his arm away. Maybe he was teasing her. ABBA was on his no-listen, no-dancing list, but she accepted his hand. He straightened up led them in a playful and imprecise quickstep through the gym.

"I can't believe you're dancing to this!" she said.

"What can I say? You make me wanna do crazy shit."

Once ABBA's song ended, they danced to the Tramps' "Disco Inferno," Bowie's "Golden Years," and Donna Summer's "Love to Love you, Baby". Sweat formed on Jackie's forehead. Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She'd dreamed of having a prom like this, only she never believed Steven Hyde would be the one to give it to her.

Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird" began to play. It was the one song by the band she liked, but Steven pointed at the gym door. Donna and Eric were sneaking out, and Steven said, "They're finally gonna make the beast with two backs."

She tugged on the hem of his tuxedo jacket. "You can be so crude."

"Yup." He gripped her waist. "You ready to make the beasts with two backs with me?"

"Not if you talk about it that way," she said, but her heart throbbed everywhere he'd ever touched her—and places he hadn't yet. "If you have to be unromantic about it, just call it _sex. _I know it'll never be _making love _to you. Or mean much more than a good time, but I'll care enough for both of us."

"Hey, I care."

She glanced away, toward a cluster of balloons.

"Jackie, _I care,_" he repeated, pulling her gaze back to him. "Thought us goin' to Prom, goin' steady ... goin' to motel room would tell you how much. I'm not the guy who says this crap out loud."

"It's not crap. But you've been my boyfriend for only two hours, and we're already fighting."

He laughed, loud enough to draw stares. "You call this fighting? I call it foreplay."

Her shoulders hiked to her ears, and she whispered, "Steven, be serious!"

"I am! What me and my ma do, that's fighting. This is just talkin'—and you're scared."

"Yes, I'm scared!" She grasped his wrist and ran her thumb over his skin. "What you told me in my dad's car, that being with me makes you happy, did you mean it?" She hooked his fingers with hers. "Even with my family being so against us?"

"If anything, that makes being with you hotter. But, yeah, I meant it." He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "You saw my house, my ma. You know where I come from. Didn't see any way out of it..." He gestured between them with their joint hands. "But if _we _can be together, then anything the fuck is possible."

Warmth spread through her chest. "That is the second most romantic thing I've ever heard."

"What's the first?"

"What you told me in the car." She squeezed his hand. "Let's go to the hotel."

He squeezed her hand back, and they ran out of the gym together.

* * *

The Holiday Hotel wasn't luxurious, but it was clean. Nature paintings hung on the walls of the room Jackie had booked. A thick comforter covered the queen-sized bed, and the concierge didn't question Jackie or Steven's age when they checked in.

Jackie's dress was draped over the desk chair. Steven's tux lay crumpled on the floor, and Jackie's pulse pounded in every inch of her. She was on the bed, naked except for her underwear. Steven was the same. They'd spent the last half-hour kissing and caressing, and his erection occasionally brushed against her body. But she was ready for more, to be with him the most intimate way possible.

He raised himself on his elbows after their last long, tender kiss, and he looked into her eyes. "How do you want this to go?"

"What do you mean?"

"You like this position, or do you want be on top?"

"I like this one, but are there only two positions?"

"There's a ton. And we'll get to some of those if you like doin' this with me."

Her heart fluttered. He really was experienced, but that meant he'd been with a lot of girls before her. It was a positive with a negative she'd have to live with, but … "What do you mean _if _I like doing this?"

"Don't want to take it as a given." He inched his hand closer to her face, and his knuckles grazed her cheek. "Look, before we start, you've got to know that this is probably gonna hurt a little."

"My cousin Carla told me all about that. But I've been horseback riding since I was five, so maybe it won't?"

"Maybe, but you gotta speak up if you're in pain. Or you need me to stop. Or you need goddamn anything, all right?"

He sounded nervous, and she touched his shoulder. "Are you scared at all?"

"Nope."

"Not even a tiny amount?"

He turned his head away from her and heaved out a breath. "Okay, a splinter. Micro-freakin'-scopic. This is your first time, and there's pressure that goes along with that. Hell, there's a responsibility."

She ran her palm up his neck and down again. His skin was hot against hers, but his mind wasn't where she hoped it would be. "Don't think about it like that … please? We're doing this together. This isn't something you're doing _to _me.

"If I'm no good," she continued, "you won't want to have sex with me again, either." She patted the center of her chest. "But I'm great at everything, and you've been great at everything, so..." All the fantasies she'd had about him crashed through her. "We should be great at this."

"I hear ya." He pecked her lips and pushed himself to her side. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and her heart pounded harder as he pulled a condom from his tuxedo pants..

This was actually going to happen. She and Steven were going to make love.

She bent her legs on the bed, giving him space in front of her. He glided his hands over her knees and said, "You ready?"

She held her breath. She was, but... "I don't want you to dump me after this."

"Why the hell would I dump you?"

"Because Carla said that's what boys do after they get what they want. She told me that's what Michael would do—"

"I'm the one who kept putting this off, remember?"

She inhaled deeply. "Right." Steven wasn't Michael or just any boy. He was himself. "I'm ready."

His hands swept up her thighs and removed her underwear. He positioned himself over her, closer, and she swallowed in relief. He wasn't rushing or acting like a teenage horndog.

She wrapped her legs around his waist. "Is this right?"

"Works for me."

Time seemed to move slower as he guided himself inside her the smallest bit. His right arm returned to its spot beside her shoulder, and he repeated, "You ready?"

"Yes," she said.

He moved his hips forward half an inch but stopped. "Your mind might be, but you're tense as shit."

"I'm sorry!"

"Nothin' to apologize for, man. It's normal. Foreplay was supposed to take care of that, but I guess we talked too much."

She reached up and dug her fingers in his hair. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Let's try this..."

His lips brushed against her mouth. He kissed her, and she kissed him back until her body relaxed. He eased his hips forward and didn't stop this time. The pressure inside her was startling and weird and burned. But he pushed past some kind of barrier, maybe a bone in her pelvis or the hymen—she'd have to look it up in an anatomy book—but the pressure and burning relented, and all she felt now was his presence.

"So," he said, grinning, "here we are."

He wasn't moving yet, but the sensation of him was so bizarre and wonderful that she giggled. "I can't help it," she said after a few seconds. He was so deep between her thighs, and her stomach was feeling him, too. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"Neither can I."

She clutched at his sides below his arms, and her palms pressed against his ribs. "Go slowly."

"You got it."

He withdrew his hips and eased them toward her again, and the burning returned. He thrust at the same speed twice more, and she said, "Go faster—not too fast. Just faster."

"You hurtin'?"

"More like a sting. Go a little faster?"

He did, and the pain decreased.

"Faster," she said, and as his strokes sped up, the burning gave way to pleasure. She cupped the back of his head loosely. His hair skimmed her palm with his movements, and she said, "Okay. Okay, it's starting to feel good."

"Got an idea..." He altered his rhythm but kept the same pace.

"Starting to feel _really _good." She gripped his hair and closed her eyes, but fear blended with joy. This experience couldn't be one-sided. She forced open her eyes, and he met her gaze. That was reassuring, but she needed him to talk to her. "How are_ you_ feeling?"

"Nice."

"Is that all?"

"The better you feel, the better I'll feel."

"Oh … _oh._" She understood what he meant. He was still trying to figure out how their bodies worked best together, but she craved the connection they'd had while dancing. "Can you come closer so I can hug you? Because I really need to hug you right now."

"Easier to do on our side."

"Let's do that."

Steven took charge of repositioning them. He managed to stay inside her as they faced each other on the bed, and he hooked her right leg over his hip. She was able to embrace him now, and his arms swept over her back, holding her.

"Thank you," she said into his shoulder. Her fear was dissipating.

"No problem. This'll feel different than it did before."

"I'm ready."

He didn't pull out of her body as much as before, but his strokes became electrifying. They awoke nerves endings she hadn't known existed, and her breaths grew shorter. His became heavier, she held him tighter as her joy peaked. It drained away, but she hugged him even tighter.

He kissed her temple, like he knew what had just happened. She'd never felt this close to anyone in her life. She hadn't known it was possible.

* * *

Jackie had come. Hyde was sure of it. The prospect of being with her had spooked him from the get-go, but now he was terrified … or euphoric. He couldn't tell which, but maybe they were the same.

He continued to thrust inside her but at a slower pace. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, but she was still moving against him.

"Should I stop?" he said.

"No!" She glanced up at him. "I like this. I like being this way with you."

Her look finished him off. His eyes squeezed shut, and the pressure within him released. He usually separated from the girl after this moment. But as exhaustion flowed into his body, he held Jackie closer, afraid that letting her go would cause him physical pain.

"You okay?" he said.

"Yeah. Are you?"

He burrowed his hand into her damp hair. "Think so. You enjoy what we did?"

"I wish I could talk, but if I talk, I'll cry."

His throat thickened, making his voice hoarse "I was that bad?"

She caressed the nape of his sweaty neck. "This is the best night of my life," she said, and her fingertips edged into his curls. "How … how was I?"

"It mattered."

"Huh?"

"This. What we did. It mattered—it _matters. _I feel it."

"Oh. Oh ... _no_." Her breaths stuttered against him. She'd begun to cry. "I told you this would happen!" she said and slapped his back weakly. "It's your fault for being so—so _you!_"

He laughed, mostly out of relief. "Ready for a second go?"

"Are you kidding me?" She pulled from his embrace, just enough for them to see each other. "I'm exhausted—and I have to pee."

She rolled away from him and off the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom. He remained on the bed, though, unmoving, until she returned.

"Are you really okay?" she said, tying a fluffy robe around her body. _The Holiday Hotel_ was monogrammed on it.

He stood up. "Yup. I'll talk more after I piss and clean myself off."

He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and, like her, had put on one of the hotel's robes. It was soft against his skin, a sensation he wasn't used to, but everything tonight was new to him.

Jackie sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with her robe sleeve. She seemed worried, and he sat beside her.

"Jackie—" he said, but his voice choked. Speaking his thoughts wasn't his nature, but he wouldn't let that wreck this night for her. "Being with you," he started again. "hell, it was like my first time, too."

She grasped his hand with both of hers. "But you were great!"

"That's not..." He cleared his throat. "What we did, that wasn't fucking."

"I know. It was making love." She tugged at the belt of his robe and smiled teasingly. "Come on. Say it: we made love."

"I'm not saying that."

"Fine. I don't care if you say it, as long as you do it."

He slipped his arm around her back and hugged her against his side. They'd probably never fuck. Sex between them would always have some kind of meaning. Because she'd come to mean a lot to him.

"When are we gonna be able to do it again?" she said and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I paid for this room with cash. My parents won't have any idea, but I don't have enough money lying around to book a hotel every week." She sat up straight and turned toward him. "I'd have to charge it, and then my dad would find out, and you'd die."

"How's about the next time my ma goes out of town?" He checked his wrist, as if his watch were on it. "Should be any day now."

"I'm serious, Steven. Waiting another four months will be so hard!"

He pushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. She was panicking over nothing. Her folks were never home before five. "After school" he said, "on the days you don't have cheer practice." Like their usual fooling-around time.

"Right—" She looped her arms around his neck and pecked the corner of his lips. "I forgot!"

"Guess makin' love'll do that."

"You said it! You said _making love!_"

His spine stiffened. "No, I didn't."

"You did." She stroked his sideburn with the back of her fingers. "I guess making love made you forget not to."

"Whatever," he said but clasped her hand to the side of his face. What they called sex wasn't important, only what was growing between them. It fit none of the limited prospects for his life ... so maybe his prospects weren't so limited, after all.


	13. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN**  
WELCOME HOME**

The last time Jackie had visited Steven's house, his mom was so drunk that he feared for her life. Jackie hadn't been back since. He never suggested it, and she didn't push. But spring had turned into summer, and Mrs. Hyde's closet stood open before her. It was a gaping maw of tackiness, but Jackie was naked, dripping wet, and desperate for clothes.

The evening had started off well enough, driving through town with Steven and their friends. Cruising in Eric's car was a pastime she'd come to appreciate, but boredom set in after twenty-five minutes. The summer was half-over. The county fair had come and gone, and Point Place didn't offer much in entertainment. So when Fez's weird girlfriend suggested they go skinny dipping, they sped off to the reservoir.

Swimming with Steven naked had been hilarious and exciting. Having their clothes stolen, though, was not.

One of Mrs. Hyde's dresses fell off a hanger. Jackie wasn't being delicate in her search, shoving rejected outfits into the closet's corner. She picked up the fallen dress, however, and examined it. The cheap fabric was scratchy, and its bodice was cut so low in the cleavage it shouted _hooker. _

"Do you think Kelso took our clothes?" Donna said. She was sitting on Mrs. Hyde's bed with Fez's girlfriend, Patty Sullivan. They'd put on a pair of floral, low-cut dresses, and their breasts were practically falling out of the top.

"Maybe." Jackie put the latest fashion reject back on its hanger. "He's crazy enough to stalk us, but..."

On Prom night, Michael had lost his virginity to Pam Macy. The following Monday, everyone in school knew about it.

Michael's version: he was the stud of the century.

Pam's version: he was the dud of the century.

Eric's translation: Kelso's rocket had exploded on Pam's launchpad.

The image had made Jackie gag, but Pam's story was more believable, and Jackie thanked God that launchpad hadn't been hers.

Michael begged Pam for the next week—in the school halls, the cafeteria, _everywhere_—to give him another chance. She laughed at him, and so did anyone else he passed by, or they made lewd comments. Jackie understood that kind of humiliation. Of course, it was thanks to him, but she pitied him anyway.

Until she became his target.

"Jackie, you have to do it with me," he told her the next weekend. He'd cornered her in Eric's basement, when Steven, Donna, and Eric were out. They'd gone grocery shopping for Eric's parents, who'd come down with colds. Fez was her only witness.

"Ew, no," she said from the couch. All she'd wanted to do was watch _The Edge of Night _in peace until Steven got back.

"But you owe me!" Michael said, and she raised her chin defiantly as he loomed over her. "Dating one of my oldest friends is bad enough. But my reputation in school—in town!—is ruined. I'll never have sex again!"

"And that's my problem how?"

Michael gestured frantically at Fez. "Even he's had more sex than me!"

Fez grinned from the lawn chair and tented his fingers together. "This is true. Barbara and I had an amazing few hours of love-making the day after Prom. She said, 'Practice makes perfect,' and we did it and did it and did it..."

Jackie had heard this story a dozen times before, but Fez continued. "And two days later, we spent the afternoon doing it. See, we needed a day off in-between because we were both sore—"

"Fez, we know!" Jackie said.

"Jackie," Michael said and sat beside her on the couch, "I never asked you for anything when we were dating. Why can't you give me this?"

She pressed herself against the armrest as her stomach soured. "The fact you'd even say that is insane!"

"Fine. If you won't do it with me, just tell people at school we did." His arm slid over the back of the couch. His fingers inched toward her face, but she slapped them away. "Tell them how great I am," he went on, "how long I last, how you're ruined for other guys—"

The wooden stairs creaked behind them. Eric, Donna, and Steven were climbing down, but Michael stayed on the couch. He was so focused on his argument that he didn't seem to notice their arrival.

"You could fan yourself like this," he said and fanned his face with his hand, "while you tell them about me. That'll really show people you mean it. Oh! And talk a little dirty. Something like, 'He screwed my brains out last night!' Or—"

"'Hyde punched Kelso until he died.'" Steven charged the couch and jumped over the back of it, but Michael leapt to his feet in time. His shins slammed into the spool table, and Steven dropped onto his butt next to Jackie.

Eric snorted, and Donna groaned in sympathy as Michael hobbled over to Fez, but Steven slipped his arm around Jackie's shoulders. "What the hell were you saying to my girlfriend?"

Jackie smiled, like she did every time he called her his girlfriend. Hearing him talk that way, as if she mattered to him, made her giddy.

Michael rubbed his shins, saying nothing, but Fez said, "Kelso wants Jackie to tell everyone at school that he is the best lover she ever had—"

Steven bounded from the couch and ran at Michael, but Eric darted between them. He grasped Steven's arms, and Steven tried to push past him.

"It's just words, Hyde!" Eric said. "Words, okay? Don't add a murder conviction to your record."

"But Kelso first told Jackie she had to have sex with him," Fez said. "He was very demanding."

"Out of my way, Forman!" Steven wrenched free of Eric's grip. Michael dashed for the back door, but Steven tackled him, and they crashed into a side table. The stereo speaker on top of it wobbled, and Steven forced Michael into a headlock. "We gotta have some new rules around here," Steven said and dragged Michael back toward the couch.

Fez put up his index finger. "The first rule is that a giant bag of M&Ms will always be waiting for me—" he pointed at the spool table—"right there."

"No," Steven said as Michael wriggled against his arms, "the first rule is that Kelso quits acting like Jackie is his freakin' toy."

"But what if you break up with her?" Michael said and kicked at Steven's leg. He missed. "Then it's open season, right?"

Steven squeezed Michael's throat. "Nope! Jackie's her own chick, and she doesn't need me speakin' for her. Jackie, what do you want?"

Jackie rose from the couch but kept her distance. Steven's grip on Michael was firm, but Michael continued to fight. One of his wild kicks could land on her knee and ruin her summer.

"Michael," she said, "you are banned from asking, begging, or demanding me to have sex with you or to tell people we did it. _You_ can't tell anyone we did it, either."

She swept her arm through the air, indicating the basement and everyone in it. "And since we have to share friends and hang-outs, you need to stay far away from me. So if I'm sitting on the couch, you aren't. If I get a Popsicle from the deep-freeze, you can't sneak up behind me and 'accidentally' brush against my butt."

"She just slapped a restraining order on your ass!" Donna said, laughing.

Steven jostled Michael's head. "You got all that?"

"Yeah—" Michael slapped at Steven's forearms. "Uncle! Uncle! Let me go!"

Steven released him, and Michael coughed. He leaned on the couch's armrest for support, but once he straightened up, he smirked at Donna. "So, Big D, I heard you and Eric didn't do it on Prom night." He coughed again but caressed his shoulders. "How about you tell people you ran into these strong arms, seeking solace in my sweet loving?"

"Let me consider that idea ..." Donna stepped up to him and rammed her fist into his stomach. He doubled over with a grunt, and she said, "I've thought about it, and the answer is: _get bent!_"

Michael stayed true to his nature for a month afterward. He violated Jackie's rules, just like he'd violated Donna's dictate last winter to leave Jackie alone, and Eric threatened him with a basement banning. Michael's behavior finally improved then, but not because of a change in personality.

"He's too busy following Eric's sister around," Jackie said now and shut Mrs. Hyde's closet. None of the horrid, cheaply-made clothes inside were appropriate to wear. She'd look like a prostitute. "Laurie has him doing all kinds of dumb errands, and I bet he's painting her toenails tonight."

Donna glanced up at the ceiling. "He's the king of stupid! Laurie's just stringing him along. She'll never do it with him."

"But she's pretending like she might, and he's desperate. Anyway, you two have to get off the bed." Jackie pointed to Mrs. Hyde's army-green blanket "I need that."

Donna and Patty stood, and Jackie sniffed the blanket. It smelled like like detergent. Steven must have done a laundry recently. His mom was gone. She'd run off with a trucker, a fact he should've shared days ago, not during during their drive here. But he was still so private about his homelife—just like she was private about hers.

Jackie pulled the blanket off the bed, and Patty said, "Let me see if I can find something in the closet for you. Sometimes another set of eyes helps."

"Considering what you chose for yourself, I don't think so."

"Jackie!" Donna said, loud enough the boys outside must've heard her. "Don't be rude. She's being nice."

Jackie wrapped the blanket around her body. It wasn't silky, and Patty wasn't being nice. She was protesting Jackie's judgment. Fez and Barbara had broken up three weeks after Prom. Theirs was a hot and fast romance that burned out in a flash. He started dating Patty afterward, but she kept talking about, "Fighting societal corruption from the inside," and how current social structures were designed to oppress different segments of the population.

Steven enjoyed talking to her about sit-ins, boycotts, and marches. That was really annoying, but her self-righteousness never shut off. Whatever Jackie ate, wore, or read, Patty tried to make her feel guilty about it.

"She's setting me up," Jackie said, and the blanket slipped off her breasts. The material was too worn to stay secured on its own. She'd have to hold it up herself. "She'll go through Mrs. Hyde's outfits and say how small-minded I am. That I'm devaluing the hard work of the people who sewed those clothes by refusing to wear them."

"Well, you are," Patty said.

"Just because I don't respect the clothes doesn't mean I don't respect the people who made them. I don't know the people who made them!"

"But they—"

Jackie opened the bedroom door as Patty protested her yet again. Steven, Fez, and Eric were sitting in the living room, dressed in Steven's shirts and pants. The sight was bizarre. Steven had so few clothes, and they were so distinctly him that Eric and Fez appeared more attractive in them.

"Jackie, you couldn't find anything?" Steven said from the armchair. It was bleeding more stuffing than she remembered. The couch was, too, and the framed paintings hung more crookedly on the walls

Jackie indicated Donna and Patty beside her. "Your mother's clothes only fit a certain type of person."

"What?" Donna said.

"I think she means with big boobs," Fez said.

"Exactly!" Jackie gave Donna an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Telling the truth, with the tension the night had caused, might end in a fight.

Steven tossed Donna and Patty cans of root beer. Patty opened hers, but Donna scrutinized her own can. "This is not the kind of beer I expected in this house."

"Ma's gone, so I cleared out the fridge." That was all the explanation he gave before walking over to Jackie. His sunglasses were on, so she had trouble reading his face. But he draped his arm around her bare shoulders and said low, "I'll find ya somethin'."

He guided her to his room. It was a mess of shirts and jeans and socks all over the bed. He shut the door behind him and opened a drawer in his dresser. None of his clothes would fit her, but he pulled out a black Led Zeppelin T-shirt.

"That'll be huge on me," she said.

"It's clean."

"Fine."

She threw the blanket onto his bed. Being naked around him had become comfortable months before, and she put on his shirt. The hem reached the middle of her thighs, but he took one of his belts and fastened it around her waist. "Now it's a dress," he said.

The belt fell to her hips, but it didn't fall farther. "A tunic is more precise."

"Whatever. Looks good on you."

Blood heated her cold, damp skin. He didn't dole out compliments like that frivolously, and she wished he had a mirror in his room. "When did your mom say she'd be back?"

He rubbed his knuckles along his cheek. "She didn't."

"Steven! She could be gone all summer."

"It's no problem, man. Been working full-time since school let out, and—hey, these are both clean and good as new." He yanked a pair of boxers from his dresser and passed them to her. "Never actually wore 'em."

She slipped the boxers on underneath her shirt. She wedged the waistband underneath where the belt was fastened, to make sure they wouldn't drop. Steven was looking out for her, but someone had to do the same for him.

"You're making $2.75 an hour," she said. "That's $110 a month, and you don't even get to keep all of it, thanks to that bitch FICA. You won't be able to pay for rent, food, electricity, and whatever else you might need."

"When I can't pay for food, I'll go to the Formans' house or eat the cheese left over from your job."

She gripped his hand. He would not be eating floor-cheese. "No, you'll stay with me until your mom comes home."

He chuckled. "Right. Your folks would kick you out before they'd let me stay in your house."

"They won't."

"Jackie, they freakin' cut you off for dating me."

Her shoulders itched at the memory. In June, her parents gave her an ultimatum: break up with him or lose her allowance and credit cards. She picked Steven and got a job working in the mall, at The Cheese Palace. She smelled like Limburger by the end of each day, but earning her own money had taught her the value of it, despite what Patty believed.

"Okay, well..." The time had come to share her own secret. "Mom and Dad are in Europe for all of July."

"They just high-tailed it out of the country without you?"

"Any other year," she said, "I'd be with them or at sleepaway camp. But because I chose love over money, they wouldn't pay for cheer camp or let me come with them." Not that she wanted to go to either place. Spending a month away from Steven would've been too hard.

He removed his sunglasses and dropped them on his dresser. "Man, that sucks."

"A little, but I'm used to Daddy being gone. And Mom's barely been home the last few months, going out with the LOPPs—the Ladies of Point Place—every chance she gets, so I'm getting used to her being gone, too."

Steven sat down on the bed, on top of a pair of crumpled jeans. He drew Jackie close, making space for her between his legs. "So what you're saying is..."

"We can make love," she said, and her thumbs caressed his neck, "without planning where or worrying if we'll get caught."

"Almost gettin' caught is kind of hot." His hands glided down to her butt and up again, but they froze at her waist. "Hold on. Did you say _love?_"

She stiffened under his touch. "What? No."

"You said you chose love over money."

"I chose _you _over money."

"You said _love._"

"It was an easy mistake. _You _and _love _are practically the same word."

"Not helpin' your argument."

She looked down at their bare feet and felt short of breath. "Does it matter?"

"Not to me, as long as you don't expect to hear me say that shit."

"I don't," she choked out, but his answer stung. Pressure built behind her eyes, but she glared at him tearless. "Stay with me tonight," she said after a deep inhale. She'd hoped to hear his declaration of love soon, but he didn't talk that way. Or, maybe, he simply didn't love her.

"What about the housekeeper?"

"I'll pay Martina off. She won't say anything."

"Cool." He grabbed a pair of socks from the bed and pressed it into her hand. "Put these on, unless you want me carryin' you to Forman's car."

She sat beside him and pulled on his socks. They swallowed her feet. She'd trip if she tried to walk, and she tugged them off. "You'll carry me."

"Yes, dear."

She smacked his arm. She hated when he said that, but he only did it when she issued demands—and she definitely had.

They returned to the living room, where their friends were talking and drinking root beer. Someone had turned on the TV, but Patty said, "Hyde, your house should be in _Worthy Homes _magazine, not those mansions they showcase. This is how real Americans live."

"This place is a fucking dump," he said, and Jackie muffled a laugh with her palm. He'd basically told Patty to shut it. "There's nothin' to romanticize about couch springs sticking up your ass."

Eric shifted his position on the couch. "So that's what that is. I thought a rat had died in it years ago, and its bones were—"

Donna elbowed him in the side.

"Never mind. Hey, Jackie, come closer a second."

Jackie eyed Eric suspiciously. "Why?"

"I just want to see what you're wearing."

She approached him, and he stared at her shirt. "Is there a stain on it?" she said. "Steven, you told me it was clean!"

Eric's stare shot to Steven. "You gave her _that _shirt?"

"Yes, Forman," Steven said, imitating his tone, "I gave her _that _shirt. What about it?"

"I think someone's in lo-ove," Eric sang. He was grinning, too, and Steven cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

Jackie pinched the hem of her shirt. Eric obviously thought he was burning Steven, but Steven seemed annoyed and aloof at the same time. "What is he talking about?" she said.

"Yes, I would also like to know, " Fez said. He and Patty were sitting together on the floor, but he must've been used to it after the sit-ins she'd dragged him to.

"Oh, my God—" Donna slapped the couch armrest and bounced on the cushion. "I totally know!"

"Spring!" Eric shouted. "Sharp! Pain—"

"Sorry." She stopped bouncing. "Hyde, that's the sacred shirt! The one your uncle gave you." She looked at Jackie. "I asked to borrow it once, and he wouldn't let me. He said no one gets to wear that shirt but himself or Eric Clapton if he ever needed to."

Jackie shook her head. "You're not making any sense. _I'm_ wearing it, so … huh?"

Eric twirled his finger at the shirt. "That's the point. He wouldn't let me touch it after my mom did a laundry for him once. I was separating out the clothes—my sister's with a pair of tongs—and Hyde rushed to the dryer and grabbed the shirt from the basket." He laughed and directed his twirling finger at Steven. "Man, you gave Jackie your favorite shirt."

"So what if I did?" Steven hooked his thumbs in his jeans' belt loops. "You got guys a problem with that?"

"No," Donna said, "but I think it's very interesting."

A thrum vibrated through Jackie, like stars twinkling in her spine. Letting her wear his sacred shirt was as good as Steven saying, "I love you."

* * *

Without Jackie's folks around, the Burkharts' fourteen-room mansion was a cool place to be. The last two weeks had been a blast. Jackie taught Hyde how to perform easy songs on the piano, and she let him play his records on the hi-fi … which might've been a mistake. Going back to the tinny sound of his record player would be tough.

The kitchen was huge, and its pantry was well-stocked. Hyde cooked dinner nights he didn't work. He cleaned in the mornings, and Jackie was confused by it at first. Having a housekeeper, she said, meant he didn't have to do chores.

But Martina's silence let Hyde sleep in a comfy bed with the girl he'd fallen hard for. She could've ratted him out at any time, despite Jackie's hush money. Martina apparently enjoyed his company, though, and taught him how to make quiche and chiles rellenos and Hawaiian meatballs.

He thanked her directly and by making her job easier, but Jackie's generosity was insane. No girl—no _one—_had done as much for him as she had. She'd helped him pay another month's rent on his house, even when he said it would be a waste. She believed his ma would come home by the start of the school year. Part of him had, too, but his ma wouldn't be back.

He stopped by the house every few days. It hadn't been broken into, and on a Wednesday afternoon, when he was gathering clothes to bring to Jackie's, Edna called.

"I know I'm your mother," she said, "but I'm abandoning you, Steven. You'll be eighteen in a few months anyway. Good luck out there."

He chucked the phone at the wall. A framed painting of sunflowers crashed to the floor, and he shouted curses until his voice was raw. When he returned to Jackie's place, she asked if he was getting sick. He lied and said he ate some tart raspberry sherbet.

But the unspoken truth was a cinder burning in the pit of his stomach. It grew hotter as the days went by, threatened to incinerate his speech as he held Jackie close in her bed. This was their last night together. Her folks would be home tomorrow.

But that was tomorrow, not now.

"I can't believe we've lived together for half a month," Jackie said and swept her fingertips along his arm. "I mean, I believe it. I just can't..." She exhaled, as if her thoughts refused to form a complete idea. "This is possible, to be with someone else so much and—"

"Not be miserable?"

"Be so_ happy._"

"That's what I said."

She clenched his wrist. "You always put good things in the negative. Like, 'That didn't suck,' or, 'I don't want to puke.'" She released his wrist and patted the top of his hand. "Why do you do that?"

The scorching flames in his stomach licked at his brain. Being positive was for people who had a future. All he had was a collection of moments that guaranteed nothing.

"Steven," she said and patted his hand again.

"Edna's not coming back."

"What?"

"She called last week, said I'm on my own."

Jackie turned in his arms. Ambient light from the windows revealed her face as a dark splotch among darker splotches. "What are you gonna do?" she said.

"I'll deal with it."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I've got."

The burning in his stomach died out, but her warmth left him. The room brightened with a click, and he squinted at the light. She'd turned on her nightstand lamp.

"Jackie, I'll be fine," he said.

She sat up against the headboard. "On fifty-five dollars a month? Your salary's gonna be cut in half when school starts."

"Not goin' back to school."

"Oh, my God—" She jumped off the bed and yanked the covers from his body. "Get up! Stop acting like this isn't a problem!" She struck his side with the flat of her hand. "Get up, Steven. I mean it!"

He sat up, if only to get her to quit hitting him. "This is how it works in my family," he said, and she stood back, arms crossed over her chest. "Never thought I'd graduate. Was surprised I got this close."

She stared at him and pressed her lips together. Her air conditioner hummed softly, but the cold it spewed seemed to increase exponentially.

"Look, if we're done," he said, "we're done. But this can't be a total shock, right? You saw my future the night we babysat Edna."

Her nails dug into her bare arms. She was clothed in a cotton pajama tank top, shorts, and ankle socks, an outfit that showed off her body and the strength in it. Years of cheerleading had shaped her muscles, and they'd made her dangerously powerful. She was about to draw blood from herself.

He scooted to the edge of the bed and reached toward her. She uncrossed her arms at his touch, leaving pink half-moons on her skin. "Let's get married," she said.

He laughed. "Come on..."

"I'm serious. My parents will have to accept you if you're my husband. They'll let you stay here. You'll be safe."

"Even if..." He rubbed his jaw. Two weeks of being domestic with her had worked out nicely. A whole life of it, though, wasn't possible. No matter how much he might eventually want it. Or that Forman's parents proved marriage could work. "Neither of us is old enough. We'd need our folks' consent, and you won't get that … and I have no folks."

"How do you know marriage laws?"

"Cousin knocked up a chick when he was sixteen."

Jackie sat beside him on the bed. "Of course." She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her waist. His situation was bad. He wouldn't deny that, but at least he'd learned girls like Jackie could love him. That Jackie _did_ love him, more than he deserved. "We'll just have to tell my parents I'm pregnant," she said.

"Uh..." He withdrew his arm from her. "How's that gonna work?"

"I'll insist on keeping the baby. My dad will insist you marry me, and he's a lawyer, so he can make the issue of your parental consent go away. By the time I tell him I'm _not _pregnant, we'll be husband and wife."

Her plan wasn't bad. Hell, it was devious. "You're a freakin' badass, man … and a little scary."

"So you'll go along with it? Unless you have a better idea."

"We break up. You quit worrying about me—"

"Try again."

He brushed his fingers through her hair. It was messy from their pre-sleep, but he dug it. "Won't let you fuck up your life for me."

"And I won't let you fuck up yours—"

Vibrations rattled the bedroom door. Martina had to be walking in the hallway, doing one last check before going to sleep. Jackie shut off the lamp, and Hyde rolled to his side of the bed. They scrambled under the sheets together, but the door creaked open.

"Jackie?" someone whispered, and light streamed into the room. "Jackie, sweetie, I'm sorry to wake you, but your father and I are home!"

Jackie remained still against Hyde's body. His instinct was to hide his head beneath the sheets, but any movement might reveal him.

"Kitten?" Mr. Burkhart said.

"Welcome home," Jackie mumbled, obviously pretending to be half-asleep.

"That's all we get?" Mrs. Burkhart said, and her footsteps thudded toward the bed. "We came home a day early just for you … and because your father mixed up the dates when booking our flights. But we bought you the loveliest gifts in the Paris. I can't wait for you to see them."

The lamp clicked on, and Hyde's understanding of Jackie grew ten-fold. He had no time to think about it, though, as her mom's scream ripped through his ear drums.

"Jack! There's a boy—_that _boy—in our daughter's bed!"

Quick, heavy steps shook the floor, and strong fingers grasped Hyde's throat before he could move. They choked him as they yanked him from the bed, and Jackie shouted, "Daddy—Daddy, stop! I love him!"

"You don't love him." Mr. Burkhart's grip moved to Hyde's undershirt—he moved damn fast. Jackie must've gotten her reflexes from him, but Hyde was too busy coughing to comment. "Pam," Mr. Burkhart said, "call the police." He pulled harder on Hyde's shirt, and the material bit into Hyde's skin. "We caught ourselves a trespasser."


	14. Drastic Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN**  
DRASTIC ACTION**

Jackie's parents were about to destroy her life.

Dad dragged Steven toward the bedroom door. Mom was calling the police from Jackie's phone, but Jackie disconnected her phone from the wall. She wrapped the cord around her arm as she dashed to the door. She got there before her dad, and her mom shouted, "Jackie!"

"No! You can't do this. I'm..." Jackie pressed her hand to her stomach, but Steven shook his head vehemently. _"Feeling sick,"_ she said. Steven was right. Pretending to be pregnant would make their situation worse. "And you need to listen to me."

"We're you're parents. You need to listen to _us,_" Dad said. "We told you_ no boys_ while we were gone."

"You said _Steven _couldn't come over." Jackie remained in front of the door. No one was leaving this room without her permission. "But he's my boyfriend, and no rule you make or punishment you give me will change the fact I'm in love with him."

Mom sank onto Jackie's bed and buried her face in her hands. "This is just terrible."

"Why?" Jackie said. "Because he comes from a poor family? Because he was arrested once when he was twelve?"

"Because we found him in your bed!" Dad squeezed the nape of Steven's neck. "What were you doing in there? How long have you been doing it?"

"Shit—" Steven pried her dad's fingers off him. "Look, I'll stay here if you wanna have me arrested, but I'm not gonna let you break my damn neck, all right?"

Dad stared at his hands, like he was horrified at what he might've done. Jackie was glad. He should be horrified. Her parents had treated Steven like he was less than human since the first time she brought him home.

"You sent me to public school for a reason," Jackie said. "You wanted me to interact with kids from all types of backgrounds because, 'That's the real world.' Isn't that what you said, Dad?"

"Well, yes, but I never meant for you to..." His shoulders slumped, but he stayed close to Steven. "Does his mother know where he is?"

"His mother is the town drunk," Mom said. "She probably doesn't know where _she _is."

Steven touched his neck. It was red from Dad's attack. "Not far off. She split on me."

"What do you mean 'split'?" Dad said.

"She's gone." Jackie gestured with her hands, miming a truck zooming down a road. "Abandoned him. She's not coming back, and he was alone in his rat-infested house." She looked pointedly at her mom. "Would you let Dad stay in such a place if you could give him a better option?" Her gaze moved to her dad. "Would you let Mom? Or me?"

"We have two guest rooms!" Mom said. "He could've slept in one of those. And where's Martina? If she allowed this—"

"She didn't," Steven said. "I'm good at sneakin' in and out of a place."

Dad peered at him over his glasses. "I'm sure you are."

A shiver rippled through Jackie's skin. Her parents had never gotten to know Steven, never even tried to. They'd judged him unworthy of her, and that was that. "Do you really think I would've fallen in love with the monster you think he is?" she said, voice cracking.

"Honey..." Mom rose from the bed but didn't approach her. Doing so would've meant passing by Steven. "You did date that dumb pretty boy—Micky?—for a while. Your choices in men so far haven't been encouraging."

"_Michael,_" Jackie said, "and he's an actual monster. He basically terrorized me for months." She unwound the phone cord from her arm. It was digging into her skin, and she dropped it to the floor. "And maybe you and Dad would've known that if you'd been around. But when you're not working, you're off with your friends. And Dad's barely home at all—"

"Now, kitten, that's not entirely fair," Dad said. "If I didn't work as hard as I do..." He hiked his thumb at Steven. "We'd be living in a house like his."

Jackie pushed her back hard against the bedroom door and grasped the door knob. Her body had grown heavy, like it couldn't support the turmoil in her soul. "So that's why you left me alone for a whole month?"

"We didn't leave you alone," Mom said. "The housekeeper—"

"Ain't you," Steven said. "My dad bailed when I was nine, and my ma left me every couple of weeks like it was a hobby. You do the same to your kid. Only difference is you don't let her starve."

Mom laughed. "That's a huge difference."

"Darling..." Dad cupped his forehead and seemed pained. "So what do you think I should do, Steven? I found you in my sixteen-year-old daughter's bed. You don't strike me as the type to take no for an answer—"

"Oh, my God!" Jackie stomped toward him but stopped short of grabbing his wrist. "Steven is a gentleman! He told _me _no."

Dad glared at her, but she kept on talking. "That's right. _I _wanted to be with him that way, and he said no for months. And no. And no. Because he didn't want me to regret anything, and before you came home? We were having a conversation."

She slid her palm against Steven's. She needed to touch him, to reconnect, and grasped his hand. "He's already in so much trouble," she said, "and none of it is his fault. If you call the police, if he's arrested, you might as well break his neck because his life will be over. And you'll be breaking my heart."

"So if we don't call the police," Mom said, "what then? Call social services?"

Steven's fingers were loose in Jackie's grip. "Just call the cops. I'll get better treatment in jail."

"You and Red Forman's boy are friends, is that right?" Dad said to him.

"Yeah..."

"How good?"

"The best!" Jackie said, and her body grew lighter. She had an idea what her dad might be thinking. "The Formans treat Steven like a second son."

Steven let go of Jackie's hand and scratched his cheek. "I wouldn't go that far."

Jackie poked his side. "Yes, you _would._"

"Tonight's going to end in one of three ways," Dad said, "and I'll leave it up to you, Steven. Whose problem do you want to become: the police's, social services', or Red's?"

"How's about you just let me go, and I never come here again?"

"Well, I think that's a fabulous idea," Mom said.

"Not an option," Jackie and her dad said together, and she smiled weakly at him.

Steven picked up Jackie's phone cord from the floor and looped it into a noose. "I'm screwed no matter what, so … let's go with Red."

* * *

Hyde had been left alone in Jackie's room, in part to let him get dressed. But Mr. Burkhart was calling Red at almost midnight, and Hyde had no clue what to expect.

The clothes he'd brought over the last two weeks were already packed in his duffel bag. He'd planned on moving back home tomorrow morning. Finding a cheaper place to live, though, was priority number one. He didn't need a two-bedroom house. Just a place where he could sleep, cook, and piss.

A knock jostled the bedroom door. "Steven, are you dressed?" Jackie's voice said.

"Yeah." He shouldered his duffel bag. "Come in."

Jackie opened the door and entered the room. She left a crack of space between the door and the jamb. Her folks had probably given an order not to shut it. "Mr. Forman is driving over," she said low. "I heard him yelling through the phone. Maybe you should've told my dad to call social services."

"Hell no." His cousin Dale had been through foster care, and it wasn't pretty. "I'll take my chances, but..." He cradled her cheek and kissed her lips softly. "Thanks for defendin' me to your folks."

She stroked the back of his neck before he could part from her. "I'm sorry my dad was so rough with you. It won't happen again. I think he scared himself. … I also think, maybe, he realizes how wrong he's been about you."

That was a stretch, but Hyde didn't refute her. Mr. Burkhart might give him a shot, but Jackie's mom would be harder to convince.

"Hey..." Jackie rushed past him to the bed. "Why didn't you pack this?" She picked up his black Led Zeppelin shirt, the one he'd given her to wear when she couldn't find crap in Edna's closet. "You can't leave this behind."

"Oh, well, I figured you could hold onto it."

"But it's your sacred shirt!"

It was his favorite, but she'd become his favorite, too. "You belong together, man. I want you to have it."

"Steven..." She hugged the shirt against her body. "This is so … you're so … I hate you."

He grinned, even as she started to cry. In the balance of their relationship, she'd put herself at far greater risk than he had. No one ever did that for him. He was always taking the punch or the fall. Giving her that shirt was the least he could do. "Just don't get snot on it."

"I won't!" She laid the shirt on the bed and grabbed a fistful of tissues from her nightstand. "And I won't let anything bad happen to you." She blew her nose, ran back to him, and thrust her arms around his waist. "Mr. Forman will know what to do. He fought in two wars. He'll hunt down your mom and make her parent you."

Hyde wasn't so sure, but he hugged Jackie carefully so his duffel bag didn't hit her. He would've quit on himself if not for her, given into the inevitable: dropping out of school and working go-nowhere jobs the rest of his life. He might still end up in a ditch anyway, but it wouldn't be because he didn't fight.

* * *

On the Burkharts' gravel driveway, Hyde was being stared at by the Formans. Their Toyota was parked behind them, and the driveway lighting revealed Mrs. Forman's tears and Red's fury. His jaw was tense, and he said, "Steven, put your shit in the trunk and get your ass in the damn car!"

Twenty minutes later, they were climbing Hyde's porch steps. The closest streetlamp was buzzing and flickering, but the electric company would probably never get to it.

"So, this is where you live," Mrs Forman said at the top of the steps. "It's—" A dark shadow scurried over her foot, darted off the porch, and hid in the neighbor's hedges. "Crawling with rats!" She clutched Red's arm. "Red, this place is crawling with rats!"

"Think that might've been a raccoon," Red said. "Looked too big to be a rat."

Hyde turned his house keys over in his jeans pocket. During the drive here, Red had asked him for directions to his neighborhood, but that was it. The Formans seeing the outside of his house raised his hackles and sickened his stomach. They'd always treated him with respect, but now they'd relegate him to a mental trash heap like Jackie's folks had.

"Thanks for the lift, but you guys can go home." Hyde dug his house keys into his palm. "You did me a favor," kept him out of jail, at least for tonight, "and I won't forget it. But you should forget this," and him.

Red yanked open the screen door. "We're going inside."

Hyde swallowed. "Yes, sir."

He unlocked the front door, entered the house, and flipped the light switch. The ceiling lamp brightened the living room, and he cringed. Newspapers and empty soda cans littered the floor. Not one piece of furniture wasn't torn or scuffed. The wall paintings were crooked, and a musty smell choked his nostrils. He'd been away too long.

"Oh, no. You've been robbed!" Mrs. Forman said behind him.

"This is the way it always looks," Hyde said. "Hell, you should've seen it when Edna was home."

Mrs. Forman began to cry. "It's worse than I feared! Red, we can't leave him here."

Red stepped deeper into the house and moved in front of Hyde. Hyde looked Red in the eye, despite how his mouth dried out and his pits began to sweat. Mr. Burkhart wasn't strong or skilled enough to kill him, but Red was.

"I don't have the money to feed you or clothe you," Red said.

"I know." The dryness of Hyde's mouth seeped into his throat. The auto-parts plant was shutting down soon. Red had reduced hours.

"But I'm going to do it anyway." Red patted Hyde's shoulder, far gentler than Hyde thought was possible. "You've been through a lot, Steven. The world can be a mean son of a bitch, but you deserve a fighting chance to survive in it."

Hyde wanted to scratch the nape of his neck, but he was too scared to move. "Why, uh ... why aren't you yelling?"

"He did most of his yelling in the car when he drove to the Burkharts'," Mrs. Forman said. "I thought I'd done all my crying then, too, but I was wrong." She blotted her eyes with a tissue. "Where does your mother keep your important papers? Like the house rental agreement, your medical records, and your birth certificate?"

"Her room, I guess." He'd never seen any important papers or his birth certificate.

Red glanced down the hallway. "We'll take care of that. You get the rest of your shit, pack it up." His gaze shot to Hyde when Hyde's legs refused to move. "Now!"

"Okay!" Hyde bolted to his room. Most of his clothes were already in the Toyota's trunk, but he piled the rest of it on his bed. He rolled up his Sex Pistols poster, put what he needed for school into his backpack, gathered pictures and other sentimental crap from his drawers. He also grabbed what he could out of the bathroom, and whatever didn't fit in his backpack went into his double-sleeping bag.

"Is that everything?" Red said when Hyde returned to the living room. Mrs. Forman was beside him, holding papers and thick folders in her arms.

Hyde nodded at the TV, which still sat on two dining chairs. "We could take that for the basement. It's color."

Red examined the TV closely. "It doesn't have any knobs."

"That's what the vice grips are for."

"Clever, but we'll deal with the TV and the rest of this … _Shangri-La_ after we've gotten some fucking sleep. It's one in the goddamn morning."

Red left the house. Mrs. Forman started to follow, but she looked back at Hyde. "Isn't he the sweetest man alive?"

Hyde raised his eyebrows and offered a smile, and she exited through the door. _Sweet _described her, not Red, but they'd both just saved his ass.

* * *

Jackie hadn't seen or spoken to Steven in three weeks. Her parents had grounded her until the end of summer. That meant no phone use, no leaving her family's property without a parent. Approved friends were allowed to stay, however, if they happened to stop by.

Only Donna did.

Through her, Jackie learned the Formans had taken Steven in. He was sharing a room with Eric, and he had a curfew and rules and was doing so many chores that Michael and Fez constantly made fun of him.

"But he seems happy, except for missing you," Donna told her a week ago. They'd walked the grounds of Jackie's house, across the gravel driveway, through the cultivated garden, and around the swimming pool.

"Did he actually _say_ he missed me?" Jackie said.

"Not in so many words, but it's obvious." Donna laughed quietly. "He liked being your husband in July, which I've burned him for relentlessly. It's hilarious—and he's pissed at himself for your imprisonment."

Jackie _was _imprisoned, but her mom had sentenced her to worse: she would attend the Madison Academy for Young Ladies in the fall. It was an all-girls boarding school five hours away. Jackie had no say in it. Dad had acquiesced to Mom's will, and Steven had no idea she'd be leaving in seven days.

She'd purposely kept the information from Donna. She wouldn't let Steven blame himself for her plight. Or put his life in jeopardy for some heroic but futile attempt to save her. But she couldn't just disappear without saying goodbye, so she wrote him a letter—which Martina promised to send, secretly, two days before Jackie's departure.

* * *

"Steven, this letter came for you," Mrs. Forman said.

Hyde was sitting at the kitchen table, after an eight-hour shift at the Fotohut. Mrs. Forman had made pork chops and roasted potatoes for dinner. Everyone got a plate to themselves, despite Red's threat that Hyde and Forman would need to split their meals. But most of Hyde's latest paycheck went to the Formans. Their family wouldn't drown because they'd taken him aboard their ship.

Mrs. Forman passed him the letter and sat at the table. The envelope had no return address, but he recognized the handwriting on the front.

"Do you think that's from your mom?" Forman said beside him.

"Nope." He looked at Mrs. Forman. "I'm gonna excuse myself, if it's all right with you. I'll take care of the dishes later if you leave 'em in the sink"

"That's all right, Steven," Mrs. Forman said.

Red thrust his fork in Forman's direction. "It's his turn to do the dishes. You're off the hook."

"Wait." Forman had one chunk of pork chop left to eat on his plate, and he shoved it into his mouth. "Hyde said he'd do the dishes all month—"

"And he has," Red said. "Don't talk and chew. You're not an animal."

Hyde left the table as the Formans squabbled. Their fights were benign compared to the brawls Hyde and his ma used to have, especially with Laurie out with Kelso. Any other night, Hyde would've stuck around for the entertainment value.

But the letter in his pocket weighed down his mood like a boulder.

He opened it in the basement. Jackie's written words were a rushed scrawl but legible, and he sank onto the couch while he read them.

_Dear Steven,_

_I miss you so much. Martina mailed this letter for me without my parents—_

_ my mom _ _—knowing. My mom is crazy, and my dad couldn't stop her. She's sending me away to boarding school, five hours away. By the time you read this, I'll already be gone._

_I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you this in person. My mom won't let me say goodbye to you. She wants to keep us apart forever. I don't expect you to wait for me until I turn eighteen … because that'll be the soonest I can disobey her rules without dropping out of school and running away from home. I have nowhere to go._

_I don't understand why my mom is so against our love. She thinks if I'm away from you, I'll forget about you. She's wrong. I couldn't forget you any more than I could my shiny hair and creamy skin. You're part of what makes me so amazing, Steven. She can't cut you out of my heart, no matter how hard she tries._

_Stay _ _safe. Listen to the Formans. Don't be stupid. I'll send you another letter with my new address once I'm at the Madison Academy for Young Ladies. Please write me back, if only to say goodbye._

_I'll always love you,  
Jackie_

The letter shook in Hyde's hands. His whole body was shaking, but the basement's back door opened before he could yell or throw the spool table at the TV.

"Hyde?" Donna hurried toward him. "Hyde, what's wrong? You're as red as a sunburned lobster."

He pushed himself off the couch. "Jackie—" He waved the letter in the air. "She's—and I—and now I can't—but I have to—gone, man!"

"What?" She snatched the letter from him and read it. "Oh, my God, this totally sucks! Where's the envelope?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Where is—never mind." She grabbed the envelope from the couch. "This is post-marked with yesterday's date. She might not be gone yet."

She headed for the basement door, but he didn't move. "Where're you goin'?"

"Jackie's. Move your ass, man, and let's go!

* * *

Donna had borrowed her folks' Eldorado for the drive to the Burkharts' neighborhood. She parked it a few blocks from Jackie's house, where Hyde was waiting for her. She'd gone off by herself for this reconnaissance mission.

Only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like hours. Hyde's eyes were shut, and he focused on his breathing. Tearing the car's upholstery was his only other option, but the driver-side door clicked open, and his heart smashed through his ribs. Donna was back.

"Well?" he said.

"I looked through the front gate," she said. "Jackie's bedroom light was on."

He pushed his knuckles into his lips. The letter had arrived early—or been sent early. Jackie was home, but she wouldn't be for long. Not unless he took drastic action.


	15. Protest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN**  
PROTEST**

Jackie crept downstairs as Martina vacuumed the living room. For the first time since she'd been caught with Steven, the house was parentless. Her dad had gone to work, her mom to visit a friend, and Jackie had to escape. Only one day was left before her exile at the Madison Academy for Young Ladies would begin.

She'd prayed for an overcast sky, but mid-morning sun lit the house. Martina turned the vacuum toward the staircase, and Jackie flattened herself on the steps. She waited, breathing quietly through her nose, until Martina turned around. Then Jackie slithered down the stairs on her back. Each step tickled her butt and hurt her spine, but she rolled onto her stomach at the foot of the staircase.

Martina was nowhere in sight. The vacuum sounded distant, like it was closer to the French patio doors, and Jackie army-crawled to the front door. She rose to her feet and grasped the door knob. Her heart clenched as the door clicked open, but she slipped out of the house without being chased. The vacuum roar must've masked her getaway.

She fled across the gravel driveway, and her sneakers kicked up pebbles. They bombarded her denim-clad legs, but she kept on running until she reached the second closest bus stop, half a mile away.

* * *

Hyde fluffed the pillows on the Formans' couch. Red told him to leave them alone, but Hyde needed to take some part in Mrs. Forman's plan. He backed off, though, when Mrs. Forman returned from the kitchen. She was carrying a porcelain tea set and placed it on the coffee table.

"Would you look at that," she said. "The birthday gift Midge gave me wasn't useless, after all. When I opened the package of Teas of the World, I thought, 'Well, what am I going to do with all this tea? Oppose taxation without representation?"

She laughed at her own joke, and Red picked up two tea packets from the tray.

She slapped his hand. "I had those perfectly arranged!"

He dropped the packets but said, "Kitty, your _tea party for two_ idea is a waste of time. If the Burkharts think sending their daughter to a fancy boarding school is best for her, who are we to get in the way?"

"Jackie is being sent away without a choice. Someone has to speak for the girl—since clearly neither of her parents are listening to her." She rearranged the tea packets on the tray. "Go out to the garage and tinker with the Toyota. I'm sure something under the hood needs fixing."

She left the tea set alone and grasped both of Hyde's hands. "You should go to the basement, sweetie. I'll do my best to convince Jackie's mother to let Jackie stay."

"Thanks, Mrs. Forman." He kissed her on the cheek, an act that had begun to feel natural. Since moving in with the Formans, his gratitude was too big to contain, and it occasionally spilled out of him.

Last night, after Donna drove them back here, he'd spoken with Mrs. Forman in private. He forced himself to say aloud what he never thought he would: his feelings for Jackie and about their messed-up situation. His face got hot while he talked, and his fucking eyes got wet, and Mrs. Forman hugged him and cried for him and Jackie and said she'd do whatever she could to help.

"Okay, this is a tea party for _two," _she said now and shooed him and Red away. "She'll be here any second."

Hyde followed a grumbling Red into the kitchen. Red continued to grumble as he left through the patio door, but Hyde stayed put. His pulse throbbed in his ears. Adrenaline made him sensitive to the sound of his own breathing, and he jumped when the doorbell rang. He was well-practiced in separating himself from his emotions. His physical survival had depended on it, but since he'd fallen for Jackie, staying alive wasn't enough.

He hooked his shades on his shirt collar and pressed his ear to the kitchen door. Mrs. Forman must've welcomed Mrs. Burkhart to the house because Mrs. Burkhart said, "Oh, your house is just lovely in a middle-class sort of way."

Like Jackie, she wasn't a quiet talker. And, luckily for Hyde, Mrs. Forman matched her volume: "I'm so glad you could come over for tea on such short notice!"

"I love tea," Mrs. Burkhart said. "My goodness, and you have so many varieties, too. Green tea, Earl Gray, Darjeeling—oh, that reminds me of my trip to England with Jack this summer..."

She launched into a meandering story with a lot of asides, and Hyde exhaled through his nose. Jackie used to ramble in her storytelling the same way, but she'd learned how to get to the point faster.

"Now, Kitty," Mrs. Burkhart eventually said, "I'm sure you didn't invite me over to hear about my vacation."

"You're right. I want to talk to you about your daughter."

"And her ex-boyfriend."

"Her _current_ boyfriend, yes. He loves her, truly loves her—"

"Of course he does. Jackie is beautiful, generous, and has rich parents. For a boy from his background, she's the ideal girlfriend."

Hyde's jaw clenched, but Mrs. Burkhart's assessment of him had been less nasty than usual.

"Jackie is so much more than that," Mrs. Forman said, "and Steven's not some—some vapid, ungrateful gold digger. He's working full-time and giving his paycheck to Red and me, and that is the least of which he's doing for us and has done for Jackie."

"Excuse me, Kitty, but I know who my daughter is," Mrs. Burkhart said. "And all that boy has done for Jackie is turn her into someone who disobeys her parents."

"No, he protected her from months of Michael's unwanted advances. Used money he could've spent on food to give her the prom of her dreams. And when her classmates humiliated her on a daily basis because of Michael's cheating, Steven did all he could to get that to stop."

Blood heated Hyde's neck. Jackie had shared more with Mrs. Forman than he was comfortable with, but he understood why she did. Talking to people like Mrs. Forman—like _Jackie_—made getting through hell easier.

"Michael cheated on her?" Mrs. Burkhart said.

Hyde winced, not that she could see it, but his disbelief was so intense that maybe she felt it through the kitchen door.

"You can't possibly tell me you don't know that," Mrs. Forman said, like his thoughts had entered her skull. If he couldn't have this conversation himself, she was the next best person to do it.

"Jackie didn't say a word."

"What about the weeks of ridicule she experienced at school?"

"I had no idea," Mrs. Burkhart said, and Hyde resisted pounding on the door. She'd made decisions for Jackie based on what existed only in her own head. The law gave her that right, but the law was screwed up in this case.

"She would've fallen into a deep depression if not for Steven and Donna," Mrs. Forman said.

"Donna! She's the tall, plaid-loving redhead." Mrs. Burkhart sounded like she was smiling, and Mrs. Forman didn't speak again. "Donna isn't the redhead?" Mrs. Burkhart said, and Mrs. Forman began to respond, but the patio door slid open. Red had to be back, and Hyde bolted for the basement stairs. Being caught eavesdropping wouldn't be good, but a different voice called his name.

Tiny bombs detonated in his chest, and he quit running. He turned around, and Jackie raced toward him. "Holy hell," he whispered.

She flung her arms around his waist and hugged him. "I sneaked out!" she said against his shoulder. "I crawled and ran and rode the bus and—"

"Keep it down." He was so damn happy to see her, but it could be the last fucking time. "Your ma's here."

"She is?"

He embraced her tightly and pressed his cheek against her temple. Letting her go was going to kill him. "Mrs. Forman's trying to convince her to let you stay."

"Oh, my God."

She released him and put her ear against the kitchen door. He did the same, but he hadn't touched her in weeks. He closed his fingers around her hand, hoping the move didn't make her feel weird. She pulled his arm around her stomach and slipped her fingers between his. The position was awkward, but he held it.

"—punishing her for falling in love with someone you don't approve of!" Mrs. Forman shouted, and Jackie squeezed his palm. "Sending her away isn't the answer. She'll be in Madison the next two years. Then she's off to college for four more. You'll have no influence over her. No opportunity to learn why _she _approves of Steven."

"It's simple," Mrs. Burkhart said. "She's rebelling."

"That's it." Jackie pushed on the kitchen door, but Hyde yanked her back. "She's not listening, Steven! She never listens."

"You've gotta give Mrs. Forman a chance, man."

"She's had her chance. It didn't work."

Jackie shoved the door open and charged into the living room. He reached for her futilely as the door swung closed and open again like a pendulum. He might not do any good by joining her, but their time was up anyway, and he darted into the living room after her.

* * *

"Mom!" Jackie strode toward the Formans' couch, where her mom and Mrs. Forman sat. A tea set was on the coffee table. That must've been how Mrs. Forman had lured Mom here. She couldn't resist a tea party.

"Jackie?" Her mom stood. "What are you—" She inhaled and shook her head. "We're going home. We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow."

"I'm not going anywhere. You'll have to call the police if you want me to leave."

"Be reasonable, sweetheart—"

Jackie laughed. "Reasonable? You haven't been reasonable with me in a month!"

"I don't have to be. I'm your mother. I know what's best. Now you'll do what I say or—"

Jackie sank to the floor and sat cross-legged. "I won't." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm protesting. And if you think I'll stop here, you're wrong."

"Do you see what that boy has done to my child?" Mom said to Mrs. Forman.

Mrs. Forman was standing, too, and she looked at Jackie. "Yes, and I'm proud of her."

Mom clutched the gold necklace at her chest. "What?"

"If you take me to Madison tomorrow," Jackie said, "I won't go to class. I won't do my homework. I'll stay in my room until I flunk every class and out of the school."

Mom's eyes fluttered as if Jackie were meowing like a cat, not speaking English, but Jackie continued. "I'll be forced to repeat my junior year somewhere else, but if it's anywhere but Point Place High, I'll flunk again until I'm eighteen and can legally go wherever I choose."

"This is ridiculous!" Her mom stood over her, a glittering, unmovable monolith. "You can't sabotage your life, your future, for _him_."

"She won't," Steven said and sat beside Jackie on the floor. "I'll drop out of school if it'll keep her here."

"You'll do no such thing!" Mrs. Forman said and jabbed her index finger at Jackie's mom. "Do you see what your classism and snobbery are doing? Threatening two lives!"

The kitchen door swung open, and Mr. Forman stepped into the room. "Steven and Jackie are good kids, despite their upbringing—"

Mom glared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"I'm not sabotaging my life for anyone," Jackie said. "I'm using what little power I have. Steven and I may break up someday..." She uncrossed her arms and rubbed Steven's knee. "Or maybe we'll get married. I could go to college and become a perfume magnate, or I could go to vocational school and become a car mechanic—"

Mom gasped and tapped her forehead with two fingers. "No, no, no. No daughter of mine will be covered head-to-toe in grease all day."

"I have before."

"She has a real knack for mechanics," Mr. Forman said. The corner of his lips ticked up, but they fell into a frown a second later. "Unlike my son."

"Mom, I worked on Eric's car with Mr. Forman a few months ago, and I really liked it. You have no idea..." Jackie closed her fist at the memory of holding cold, metal tools. "But that's the point, isn't it? You don't care about what I want, only in controlling me so I'll become what _you _want."

Her voice was trembling. She pinched the material of her jeans, and Steven's hand glided over her back, bolstering her. "But I'd rather struggle," she went on, "to make my life work on my own terms than be given everything only so I can live someone else's vision of what my life should be."

Mom crouched, as if to sit at Jackie's level, but she pushed herself back to her feet. "I can't sit on this rug. It's so..."

"So _what?_" Mr. and Mrs. Forman said together.

Mom shuddered but sat in front of Jackie. If the carpet hadn't been steam-cleaned recently, her white cotton pants would take on the color of her sparkly slate blouse, but she said, "If staying in Point Place is what you really want—"

"It is," Jackie said.

"And if loving Steven makes you happy—"

"It does."

"And if working with grease and ruining your nails might someday be fulfilling, then I truly don't know you."

Jackie's throat thickened with pain. "You don't."

"That needs to change," her mom said, sounding just as upset. "I'm so, so sorry, honey. If you can stand up—or _sit down_—to me like this, then you'll go far in any career your pursue. And you won't let any boy or man walk all over you Because you deserve the world..."

She cupped Jackie's chin softly, and Jackie didn't recoil. "That's all I want for you, sweetheart. I didn't think Steven could provide that, but he's part of the world you want for yourself. You wouldn't have fallen in love with him otherwise."

"I really wouldn't have," Jackie said, but her voice was a mess. Her vision was a blur. She'd tried not to cry, and she tried to stop crying as she continued to talk. "And when he acts like a jerk, I'm not quiet about it—but he stops and learns and does so much better."

"You act like a jerk to her?" Mr. Forman said.

Steven scraped his knuckles against his jaw. "Well.."

Jackie pulled his hand from his face. She'd spoken wrong and put him in a bad position. "I can be a jerk, too," she said. "We argue like any couple, but then we talk about it and make up."

"Oh, I understand." Mrs. Forman grasped Mr. Forman's hand by the coffee table. "That's how long-lasting loving relationships work. Fighting can be healthy as long as it doesn't become cruel."

"So will you come home with me now?" Mom said.

Jackie hooked her arm around Steven's and remained seated on the floor. Her mom's sweet words could be a trick.

"I haven't seen my boyfriend in weeks," Jackie said. "I want to spend the rest of the day with him ... and sleep over at Donna's? Because tomorrow morning, you could make me go to Madison anyway."

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"How do I know that? I never thought you'd send me away in the first place."

Mom exhaled a long breath. "All right. How about if I make the call to the Madison Academy for Young Ladies from here and cancel your enrollment? Then I'll call Point Place High to enroll you there. You can listen in while I do it."

Jackie jumped to her feet and clapped. "Yes! Let's do it now."

Her mom stood, too, and faced the Formans. "May I use the phone in your bedroom?"

"No," Mr. Forman said.

"Of course," Mrs. Forman said and seemed to win the argument. She led Mom upstairs as Mr. Forman said nothing.

Steven was standing now, and Jackie laced her fingers with his. She tugged him toward the kitchen but stopped at the door. She glanced back at Mr. Forman, who'd picked up a tea packet from the tea tray. "Could you teach me more about fixing cars before school starts?" she said.

Mr. Forman flicked the tea packet with his thumbnail. "The Toyota does need a new timing belt. I've got to go to Kenosha for one of those."

"That sounds great! It'll be like a field trip. Steven?"

"Sure," Steven said. "I've got to learn how to fix a car anyway. Leo's giving me his El Camino."

Her heart beat faster. "You're going to have a car?" That meant more freedom. Even if her dad never returned the Lincoln's keys to her, Steven could drive her places.

"Yup. Would've driven up to Madison every damn weekend if I had to."

Warmth spread from her pounding heart into the rest of her body. She gazed at him, overwhelmed by his statement. He wasn't going to abandon her, even when her mom almost forced her to abandon him.

"You love me so much," she said and placed her hand on his heart. It was beating slower than hers, but it had to be burning with his passion for her.

He flicked his eyes to Mr. Forman "What do I say?"

"You say _yes," _Mr. Forman said. "When your girl tells you how you feel, and you actually feel it, _yes _is the easiest answer."

Steven's gaze returned to her. "Yeah—_yes._"

She stood on her toes and pecked his lips. "I'm so glad I cheated on Michael with you last year."

He laughed, but Mr. Forman ran past them into the kitchen, like he was about to be sick. Nothing about her and Steven's love was sickening, though. It was glorious—and she had to listen to her mom's conversation.

She led Steven into the kitchen and hurried to the wall phone, but Mr. Forman said, "I came in here to get away from the two of you." He was by the fridge, holding a can of Schlitz, but he raised the can to his ear. "If you have to eavesdrop on your mother, do it in the basement."

"That's a good idea," Steven said to her. "Let's do it in the basement."

She giggled. He was so clever, and they dashed downstairs together.

* * *

Jackie sat on the basement couch with the phone to her ear. She'd invited Hyde to listen, too, but he gave her distance. His uncomfortable chair numbed his ass after twenty minutes. Maybe he'd spend some of his dough on a new one, but he probably wouldn't. With a car, he'd have gas to pay for.

When Jackie finally hung up, unshed tears rimmed her eyes. "She did it. I'm back at Point Place High!"

Relief engulfed his body, but he only nodded. "That's great, man, but _you_ did it. Your protest was one of the baddest, hottest things I've ever seen. Could've fuckin' proposed to you if your mom wasn't in the way."

Her eyes widened, and a tear balanced on her lashes. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, but the moment's passed."

"Then I'll protest more often. My parents will give me plenty of opportunities." She brushed her hair off her shoulder and held her head high. "You'll propose to me by the end of the month."

She was joking, had to be, and he said, "Too bad Patty wasn't here to see it. She might've invited you into her and Fez's relationship."

"Ew! Did you have to?"

"Yup."

"Jerk."

He quirked up an eyebrow, but all he felt for her buzzed through him. She'd fought for him. Fought for herself, and he'd fight just as hard to keep them happy. Because living was more than just about survival. "That your pet name for me now?"

"No." She patted the cushion next to her. "You're too far away."

He moved to the couch and put his arm around her shoulders. "Better?"

It was for him.

She snuggled into his side. "So much better."

"Cool." He nuzzled her hair, and its floral scent tangled in his thoughts. She'd been through a lot today—hell, the last month—but she was freakin' staying. They probably had some intense conversations ahead of them, but … "What do you wanna do? Go to The Hub, catch a movie?"

"I wouldn't mind doing it."

"With your ma and the Formans upstairs?"

"Mr. Forman told us to. We can blame him if we're caught."

He grinned. "I like the way you think … but how's about we stick to first base 'til we can get somewhere more private?"

She swatted his stomach. "You are such a coward."

"I'm just rackin' up the pet names today, huh?"

"I had three weeks without you, and I'm being awful." She bunched the excess material of his T-shirt in her fist "You're not a jerk or a coward. I'm just—"

"Hard up."

She glared at him. "Yes."

"New pet name for you."

She let go of his shirt and cradled his cheek. "We're not doing that."

Her lips met his in their first real kiss since too damn long. They fell into their special rhythm, smooth and powerful, and his fingers burrowed in her hair. Her hands traveled up and down his sides, roads that missed her touch. But she was with him now, and he held her as if they'd been apart for years and never been apart at all.


End file.
